


A Lesson In History

by Scutter



Series: A Most Unexpected Man [6]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Historical, Dubious Consent, Knotting, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Verse, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-13
Updated: 2013-11-15
Packaged: 2017-12-29 07:00:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 24
Words: 72,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1002352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scutter/pseuds/Scutter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the 1800s, this is a historical perspective on the omegaverse universe of the Unexpected Man series. James is an omega slave, sold from a position of relative luxury to a life of hardship. Steve is the son of a wealthy alpha, who finds a soft spot in his heart for the oppressed omega. But faint heart never won angry omega, and Steve's task of winning James over is to be much, much more difficult than he ever imagined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Way back in The Mavigon Solution, someone requested a Cortega with James as omega. The plot bunnies finally got their groove on and gave me this.
> 
> This is set roughly in the 1800s, in France. It’s a story designed to give a historical perspective on the alpha-omega relationship, background to Shepard and Kaidan’s story in the omegaverse, but also a stand alone story in its own right. Due to the inherent history of this universe, there is quite a lot of non-con sexual activity and violence surrounding the omegas, and James in particular, and a fair bit of dub-con, simply due to his status as slave. However, please keep in mind that I don’t aim to use rape as a gratuitous activity, and all non-con sex is intended to be presented in a negative light.  
> If you’re okay with that, then read on…
> 
> And okay, yeah, I finally gave in and decided to include some mpreg in this fic, since I'd deliberately left it out of every other fic in this series.

James waited for the door to open, carefully squashing the rising thread of panic he was feeling. He had been expecting this, knowing it was all but inevitable since the moment he and his master had set foot on the boat. 

All too soon, the door opened, and a tall, muscular alpha was staring down at him. And he knew without looking what the expression on his face would be. Lust. Greed. Selfish eagerness with no thought to the comfort of his partner.

James’s master put a hand on his shoulder and steered him through the door, and James went without protesting. This was his lot in life, a life he hated, but it was the only one he had. 

A few words were exchanged between the two alphas, then his master left and the door was closed. The new alpha summarily stripped him and pressed him face down on the bed… and it said something about how low he had sunk that James was grateful they were going to be doing this on a bed, rather than shoved up against the packing crates, as he’d seen another omega be taken yesterday.

But sheets and a mattress were the only comforts he was to be afforded. The alpha made a few derogatory remarks about his gender, a few appreciative ones about James’s physique, and then he simply climbed on top of him, spreading his legs and shoving his meaty cock up inside of James. 

He couldn’t help the cry of pain that escaped his lips, but the alpha didn’t seem at all bothered by it, thrusting deeper into his unlubricated channel. What was it about alphas that made them think omega were all sex-fiends, ready and willing to be taken at a moment’s notice? Yes, his body was capable of lubricating itself, but that didn’t mean his ass was dripping twenty four seven. James panted through the pain, giving in to the rhythmic rocking of his body, every muscle tense, hating the feel of hot breath on his neck, hating the feel of unfamiliar skin against his own.

It hadn’t always been like this. Up until only a month ago, James had been a prized omega in a wealthy house, breeding stock, a treasured stud who had already birthed three healthy offspring. He’d been bought at the age of 18, straight out of his first heat, when he’d already been big for his age and stronger than even some of the alphas he knew. Outdoor work had given him a set of muscles that were the envy of males everywhere, and he’d been bought as the breeding omega for a Duke.

All omegas were slaves, in one form or another, but breeding omega was the highest rank one could be given, a coveted role that meant only the ruling alpha of the house was permitted to mate with him. He was bred at each heat, tasked with light duties for the months that followed, and then pampered through the birth – an experience that was no walk in the park at the best of times, and usually left an omega exhausted and helpless for days afterwards. He’d delivered a male the first time around, a prized child due to the possibility that he might be an alpha. There were no guarantees, of course, and it wouldn’t become apparent until the child reached around 15 years of age whether he was an alpha, a beta or an omega, but if James had delivered a girl, then beta or omega were the only two options. Not a favoured choice for a house that had yet to receive a new alpha to continue the family line. 

But his second and third offspring had both been girls, and when James had failed to conceive at his latest heat, the master of the house had promptly tired of him. The easy responsibility of mating with the master once a week or so had suddenly been replaced with an utterly unknown future. He was to be sold.

If he was lucky, he would be bought by a less wealthy family and used as a house-mate, a term that meant any member of the household, or any visitor to the house, could make use of him sexually. 

If he was unlucky, there were a variety of roles he could fill, each more degrading than the last, but worst of all would be to be bought by a whore-house, kept for the use of any alpha, nobility or not, who couldn’t afford to own an omega of their own. Omegas in whore houses were mated five or six times a day, and most ended up on the streets a few years later, when their bodies simply gave out from the rough treatment. Most died soon after of starvation or infection, brought about from ruptured bowels and prolapses. It was a dreadful existence, feeding the nightmares of omegas the world over.

There was, of course, the theoretical possibility that he could be bought as a personal omega. While breeding omegas were only mated by the master of the house, there were often other alphas in the family who preferred exclusive mating rights to an omega, rather than use one of the house-mates. But personal omegas were generally bought as virgins, and a disgraced breeder was hardly going to catch the eye of a young nobleman. Even one as aesthetically pleasing as James.

But the master of the house had decided that selling him locally would fetch too low a price – nobility were nothing of not gossips, and a breeder who had failed to breed would be hard to _give_ away, never mind sell. So James was being taken to France, where he could be sold as a breeder with a good history, three successful offspring, and the fabricated story that a poor season had meant the family could not afford to keep him.

The journey was both good and bad, for James. On the plus side, it greatly increased the likelihood that he would end up in a more comfortable existence, house-mate to a middle-income family. 

On the down side was the nauseating depravity he was currently experiencing. Omegas on ships were few and far between, and it was common for a master to pimp his omega out to other alphas for extra cash. The same thing had happened on the road to the port, and in the hotel while they waited for the ship to dock. He’d been taken by eight alphas in the last week, each of them stripping away more of his dignity, his pride.

But fighting back, resisting, was simply not an option. Omegas were trained thoroughly upon discovery of their gender, taught to submit, given harsh punishments for any infraction, and many ended up simply broken before they even went through their first heat. It was the way of their society, the way it had been for generations. To be born an omega was to be born cursed.

The alpha on top of James finally grunted out his climax and James felt the knot swell inside him, resigned to what would happen next. The first time he had been taken like this, his own climax had come as a complete surprise – he was not the slightest bit aroused and it had seemed that his body had betrayed him, especially when the alpha had taken it as evidence that he was a slut, just like every other omega, getting off on the most cursory attentions of a complete stranger…

But now, he accepted the climax with philosophical resignation. The knot pressed upon nerves which triggered an orgasm, whether his mind was involved or not, and James lay still, unable to help the small grunt of what could only loosely be called pleasure, his essence pumping out of him onto the sheets as the alpha collapsed, his sweaty body hot and heavy on top of him.

Another two days, and they would dock in France. Another two days of being treated like a whore… until the day when he would find out whether he really was to become one.

 

THREE MONTHS LATER

Steve Cortez once again wondered what god had blessed his birth for him to have ended up at his current station in life. Born the accidental child of a house-mate in a farming village, he had thought his life would consist of little more than tending sheep and plowing fields… until, at the age of fifteen, he’d suddenly begun showing all the signs of being an alpha. The signs were varied, some more subtle than others, but the unmistakable giveaway had been watching his genitals grow, almost by the day, it seemed at times, to the impressive length and girth of an alpha. 

And then a wealthy alpha had passed through the village on a day of horrendous weather, his carriage getting bogged in a muddy rut, and he’d come across the boy that Steve had been, immediately offering to buy him from his parents, to adopt him as his own son. Frank – the alpha’s name – had been trying for a natural alpha-son for years and had been unable to sire one. His brother was unwilling to take over his estate, already running a lucrative trading business, delivering wares to Spain and bringing back exotic delights for sale at inflated prices, and Frank had been growing increasingly anxious about having someone to pass his land on to. Blood ties were of only mediocre importance in modern society, with omegas disowned at the drop of a hat and even betas sold and exchanged for better blood lines. No, the thing that really mattered was your name, the name of your house, the name you could lay claim to you whether you had been born, bought or adopted into it. 

And Steve had been adopted by Frank Cortez, a worthy name for any young alpha, and with the name had come an education in business, economics and politics, a horse of his own, and the coveted position of first-alpha, only one step below Master of the House, and a public declaration that he would inherit the estate one day.

Frank had been an exemplary father, and even the omegas in the house were treated with compassion. They could not be mated more than twice a day each, they were given two meals a day and each had a thick mat of straw to sleep on.

Frank’s last breeding omega had passed away last winter, caught by an epidemic of pneumonia that had also taken one of their betas and twelve other people in the local village, and at his age, he’d declared that he was in no need of another. The house-mate was good enough for him…

But then he’d turned to Steve with a glint in his eye, and asked, with all the pride of a doting father, whether Steve would like a personal omega of his own. He was past twenty five now, and his business interests were beginning to blossom. It was a fitting reward for his years of service to the family business.

Which was how they had ended up here, in the omega markets, perusing the omegas for sale. 

At first, Steve had been excited, torn between wanting a male or a female, wondering if he should get a virgin, or someone older, more experienced. Work on the farm was hard, and getting an omega who was too young and slim of build may end up being a burden on the property.

But as they’d moved further into the markets, Steve’s excitement had faded, confusion, and then open horror taking over. He’d never been to the omega market before, and growing up on the Cortez estate, he’d never seen an omega beaten or whipped before, either. But in the last half hour, he’d seen things that made his stomach churn. Omegas were taken in the streets, clearly in pain due to the rough matings. Some had been beaten until they couldn’t walk. Some were chained up, their wrists and ankles bleeding, and the conversations going on around him would give him nightmares for weeks. Alphas spoke of omegas as if they were dumb animals, unable to think for themselves, discussing the tightness of their asses and cunts, boasting of their cruelty in subduing them.

And the looks in the eyes of the omegas… their spirits broken, their eyes downcast, the worst of them seemed to be creatures devoid of all hope.

“I can’t… I don’t want any of these,” Steve told his father, unashamed of the way his voice wavered. He’d heard the stories, of course, but to see such suffering standing only a few feet from him-

“No, no, of course not,” Frank agreed swiftly. “These aren’t for you. Just a little further. You’ll get a certified omega from the main office.”

Steve breathed a sigh of relief at the news. Certified omegas had undergone a medical exam and came with assurances that they were fit to work, able to mate and had no serious health issues. And as they turned the next corner, it was like taking a breath of fresh air. The dinginess of the streets opened up to a much wider, more colorful square where traders sold not just omegas, but spices, fabrics, even horses, in the far corner. And the omegas, though still staring at the ground, stood straight and relaxed, their eyes downcast through good manners, rather than the deadening of their spirits.

But the things he had seen were going to stay with Steve for a long while, he knew, and his former excitement at getting an omega of his own failed to resurface.

Just then, Frank spotted an old business acquaintance of his and, with a brief word to Steve that he wouldn’t be long, hurried off to meet him. Left to his own devices, Steve felt strangely out of place for a moment… and then decided that heck, he may as well explore a bit.

The rows of spices were accompanied by stalls selling hot food, and he parted with a few coins to purchase a stick of fried meat. The horses were next, and he stood back, admiring the magnificent animals, envious that he would never be wealthy enough to own one like this. Though Frank was wealthy, he wasn’t technically a nobleman, and these were the steeds of Dukes and Barons, powerful, finely bred animals of the highest quality. 

After spending some time simply admiring them, Steve was about to return to where he’d left Frank when he suddenly saw a narrow passageway, leading down into a dark room. 

Curious, and feeling bolder by the second, he went to investigate.

Down a short flight of stairs, he came to a desk, a surly guard seated at it, and a long room full of… cages? He stepped closer…

No, they were holding cells. Some had several omegas in them, some just one, and they seemed to range in age, in physical condition in a way that had no clear pattern.

“What is this place?” he asked the guard.

“Omegas waiting for shipping,” he replied, a gruff man who seemed to have to force himself to be respectful due to Steve’s status. “These ones have been sold and are waiting to be sent to their new master.”

Interesting. “Mind if I take a look?”

The guard shrugged, which Steve took to mean he could proceed.

 

 

The last three months had been absolute hell for James. Luck had been against him the first time he had come to these markets, and while he hadn’t ended up in a whore house, the beta his master had sent to sell him had failed to get a price anything like the master had been hoping for. So he’d been sold to a merchant, a rough man who carted his wares about on a team of donkeys and who saw his omega as just another commodity to be traded. After taking James twice himself, he’d lost no time in selling his body to a merchant pal of his for an hour or two. And then, after James’s ass was sore and tender, he’d been tossed into a holding cell very like the one he was in now, while the merchant wrapped up his business, and had promptly been taken by a guard, a few coins exchanged for the right to pound his cock up James’s ass.

After years of being afforded the semi-respect of breeding omega, it had been a rude shock to realise that he was now considered nothing more than a warm body, and over the last three months, there had been a steady stream of ‘visitors’, wanting all manner of sexual services, and as restrictive as his old life had seemed, breeding slave to a dispassionate alpha, it was infinitely preferable to this.

Being mated repeatedly by callous and rough men was bad enough, but after a day or two on the road with the merchant, they had stopped at an inn, a dingy, low class place, and the merchant had allowed the owner of the tavern to fuck James in exchange for a few beers. It was a hell of a blow to his pride – to be sold for coin was one thing, but for ale? And then he’d had to fight not to vomit as the tavern owner had proceeded to open his pants, turn James around, and take him right there, in public, with four other men watching on.

James had never questioned his role as an omega, had never thought too deeply about the social constructs that led some to own land and property, and others to forcibly bear children in comfortable prisons, but he failed to see any justice in a world where _this_ was accepted as normal and appropriate.

And even still, he had not resisted, had gritted his teeth and clenched his fists as he was pounded into the table he was bent over.

James had once been a decent, civilised, polite omega, but the days and weeks of rough treatment had changed him, and he felt like he was losing himself. Anger was an ever-present companion now, every kind gesture treated with suspicion, every man a threat, and twice he’d broken free of his training and fought back. The first time he’d broken the man’s jaw, and, since he’d been stealing from James’s master in the first place, the merchant had merely laughed and called James to heel. 

The second time he’d broken the man’s arm, punishment for daring to put a cigar out on James’s shoulder. That time the man had been a legitimate customer, and James had received a severe beating for his disobedience.

And since that day, James had found himself less and less able to reign in his anger, his eyes constantly following his master around the room, at first imagining fanciful revenge – maybe the lantern would fall on his head, maybe he’d slip in a puddle and fall… and later, more purposeful plans for freedom. He could grab a knife from the guard by the door and stab his master with it. He could pick up the poker, pretending to stoke the fire, then plunge it through that black heart… 

Escape was simply not an option, omegas on the loose prone to being caught and mated by gangs of alphas, or of being beaten to death for running away, and it was hard to imagine why any omega would take such a risk. But every day, it was becoming a better and better option, James desperate for a way out of his personal hell before he either really did kill someone… or lost himself completely.

But his fortunes had gotten worse, not better. Back at the slave market, his master had fallen into a bad deal and lost a lot of money, and had sold James just two days ago to pay back the debt.

And, if the rumours he had overheard were true, his new position was to be even worse that his last. He had been bought by the owner of a construction business, rough men used to hard work, building houses for land owners out of rock and clay, and he was to be their ‘stress relief’ at the end of the day. James had never truly enjoyed a single sexual encounter of his life, but at least his first master, the one who had used him for breeding, had been careful not to injure him. He had been too valuable for any carelessness, even during his heat and the rut it had inspired in the master. 

The customers of the merchant had, for the most part, been reluctant to cause any permanent damage, unwilling to pay the fee for having James replaced or his injuries treated. But a crew of stone-haulers? They would take no care with him, spare no regard for his comfort and care nothing at all for his injuries. His master may as well have just fed him into a meat grinder.

Even now, his luck was turning for the worse. The guards at the holding cells had complained about James’s violent past when his new master had left him here, and to be placated, one of them had been given leave to mate James – after he’d first been chained hand and foot so that he couldn’t harm the man. And so now he was kneeling on the dirt floor, arms fixed to a hook on the wall at a painful angle while the alpha fucked him from behind. James was already sore from having been mated four times the day before, and it was a wonder at times that he wasn’t constantly bleeding from his back end. He felt a growl growing in his throat, wishing his hands were free so he could tear the guard’s throat out, and, hearing the sound, the guard reached forward and grabbed his hair, yanking his head back, thrusting deliberately hard as he came, and his knot swelled, causing James nothing but pain.

After months of rough treatment, he’d stopped climaxing even with a knot lodged inside him. The disgust and outrage of his mind and spirit now seemed to out-way even the hard-wired response of his nervous system, and it had been seven weeks since he’d had an orgasm of even the most rudimentary nature.

Feeling eyes on him, James looked up, not at all surprised to see a young nobleman staring at him through the bars. All his good manners had deserted him weeks ago, and now he glared at the man, sure that he was going to be the next to make use of James’s body, and not caring if he was beaten again for daring to look a superior in the eye.


	2. Chapter 2

Steve felt his mouth hanging open in shock as he stared at the omega being mated in the dingy cell. The omega – a powerfully build male – was clearly in pain, hating what was happening to his body, but he was chained down, unable to fight back, forced to endure the mating despite his growling protest.

And Steve felt an odd, twisting sensation in his chest, one which he couldn’t immediately identify the cause of. He’d seen other omegas being brutalized, had felt sorrow or pity on their behalf, but this omega inspired something else in him…

And it took him a moment to realise that it was because the man was openly glaring at him. And that was what made the difference. This one was not broken, had not yet had the life drained from his spirit… but if the treatment he was enduring continued much longer, Steve realised, then he soon would be.

And with that simple realisation, he made a decision.

He turned on his heel and marched back to the guard at the end of the hall. “The omega in cell twelve,” he said without preamble. “Who owns him?”

“Hector Briggs,” the guard said without looking up. The name was a well known one, and while Steve hadn’t met him personally, he knew he would be able to find him without much of a problem. All he had to do was ask around at the local taverns, and someone was sure to have seen him.

“If he comes back before I do,” he told the guard firmly, “don’t let him leave with the omega. I want to buy him.” He dropped a handful of coins on the desk, knowing that his words would be completely ignored without a sizable bribe, and as predicted, the guard suddenly straightened, eyes fixed to the metal discs.

“Yes, sir,” he said sharply, giving Steve a sharp nod, and, satisfied his instructions would be followed, Steve dashed up the stairs and out into the daylight.

 

 

“Are you sure about this?” Frank asked his adopted son uncertainly. It had been a hell of a shock, to see his normally placid son marching into the tavern like a trio of demons was chasing him, demanding to see Hector Briggs. But the news that he wanted to buy an omega – an uncertified omega that had been used as little better than a whore – was all the more shocking, and if not for the dangerous glint in his eyes, Frank would have thought he was playing an elaborate joke.

But the anger in Steve’s eyes was no pretence, and he’d wasted no time in tracking down Hector, paying double what the man had paid for the omega to take him off his hands again. It was a pitiful sum, a hundred franks, when Steve should have been paying three times that amount for his personal omega. And the slave wasn’t certified either. There was no telling what injuries he was carrying, no guarantee his hard life hadn’t left him unable to be mated properly…

But Steve was determined, and Frank had been loath to stand in his way. He’d raised his boy to think clearly, to make firm decisions, to know his own mind… and he’d clearly made his mind up, in this instance.

And Frank had gone along with the plan until he’d actually laid eyes on the omega in question. And then he’d immediately reassessed all his previous judgments, convinced that Steve had bitten off far more than he could chew with this one. 

Omegas who were treated harshly went one of two ways, in Frank’s experience. Most of them lost their fire, becoming passive shells with no spirit left. But a small percentage of them turned mean instead, fighting people, causing injuries, becoming completely unmanageable. And this was one of the mean ones, judging by the powerfully muscular build and the rage in his eyes. He met Frank’s stare without flinching, even when the guard beat him over the shoulders with a club. He fell to his knees, winded and in pain, but unbroken.

By his side, he saw Steve flinch as the blow landed, but he wisely said nothing. It was his own fault, Frank knew. He should have given his son a better idea of what to expect at the omega market, should have kept him by his side to guide his decisions and counsel his thoughts…

But it was too late for second guessing and hindsight now. Steve’s mind was made up, and Frank watched as he met the omega’s gaze with a firm one of his own. 

The omega had surely been an attractive man, once. Now, he bore the scars of too many fights and beatings, the tattoos of three different owners, and the demeanor of a savage dog. 

How the hell was he going to keep that dangerous creature with the obedient, placid omegas at home? 

Frank paid the guard to have the omega bathed – he was filthy from weeks of rough travel and the remnants of his most recent mating – and tugged Steve outside to wait. And to try to talk some sense into him.

“Son… I have the highest respect for your wishes,” he began, his voice a little sharper than he had intended, “especially since you’ll be running the estate yourself in a few more years. But this… are you sure he’s what you want for your personal omega?”

Steve sighed, and Frank was relieved to see that Steve was taking his words seriously. “You have always taught me that kindness is a far more powerful weapon than hate,” Steve replied, tossing back a catch phrase that Frank had used repeatedly over the years. “James isn’t broken, but-“

“James?”

“The omega,” Steve clarified. “I asked the guard. His name is James.”

He’d bothered to learn the omega’s name? Interesting…

“He’s not broken, but if he stays in the conditions he’s been kept in, he will be soon. You remember that dog I got when I was seventeen? Vicious thing, bit me three times. Everyone said it would never be any good, but it turned out to be the best guard dog we’ve ever had. It killed four foxes in one lambing season, and never strayed from the estate. Because I treated it with kindness and patience.”

“And we both know that there’s a big difference between a stray dog and a brutalized omega. They’re human beings, and their trust is not easily won just by tossing them a meal and a blanket. This omega – James,” he corrected himself, knowing the name was important to his son, “has lived through some terrible things. I don’t doubt your intentions, nor your ability to follow through with your plans, but I do worry for the safety of my family and servants while you try to pacify him.”

Steve sighed. “How about this. If he harms anyone on the estate, we’ll sell him. But until then, I get to keep him and see what good I can do.”

It was a fair deal, and Frank said as much. And then the omega was brought out of the holding cells, dripping wet and wearing a pair of stained and dirty pants, his glare darker than ever as Steve took the end of the chain that bound him. 

Well, Frank thought, with no particular malice. This was either to be the most astonishing adventure, or the biggest mistake of his life.

 

 

James didn’t know what to think, as he was led into the waiting carriage and his shackles locked to the seat. The two nobles sat opposite him, likely a father and son, despite the lack of family resemblance. And he had had no time to get his thoughts in order, to try to work out why he had been sold again so quickly, and what intentions these two had for him. 

He was still dripping wet from the ‘bath’ the guards had given him, and he watched as the younger of the pair rummaged around in his bag, producing a linen shirt.

“Here, let me dry you,” he said, and reached for James with the cloth balled up in one hand-

But the words meant nothing, James seeing only a fist reaching for him again, and he snarled and snapped his teeth at the man, struggling despite his chains, and the man jerked back in surprise. He and the older man exchanged a wary glance.

And despite the anger simmering inside him, James himself was surprised at his own outburst. His attacks were normally better planned, more deliberate, but he felt so off balance about this sudden change of circumstances, so in the dark about this pair’s intentions that he found himself lashing out without thought.

“Would you like me to dry you?” the younger man asked again, making no move towards him this time… and James considered the question. He didn’t like being wet, didn’t like the way his pants clung to his damp skin… but he found himself shaking his head before he’d realised he’d reached an answer. No, he didn’t want anyone else touching him, even if it was with a scrap of cloth. He would stay wet, and cold, and the young man could go fuck himself if he didn’t like it.

It only added to his confusion when the man shrugged and tucked the shirt away again, and James felt like he’d just been tested somehow. But he had no idea if he’d passed or not.

Uneasiness stole up his spine, and he felt his skin turn cold. He’d come to understand the brutality of his life, to expect the beatings and punishments… but he’d also come to hate any hint of kindness. Kindness only meant someone was trying to manipulate him, to trick him into something he wouldn’t normally agree to, and he hated that even more.

Whoever this pair was, they would quickly learn not to mess with him. Or he would see both their lives as forfeit for their duplicity.

 

 

James was exhausted by the time the carriage rolled to a stop. He’d not slept for days, not eaten for just as long, and the slow rocking of the carriage had made him long for sleep. The younger man climbed out of the carriage, and then the older man looked him in the eye and produced a key. He moved slowly, keeping his eyes on James as he unlocked the hook that kept him in his seat, and led him out of the carriage by the chain around his wrists. It was late afternoon outside, the sun low in the sky, and James felt a wave of hunger, followed quickly by a burst of nausea. No one had yet told him what his new station was, and it seemed harder to brace himself against the horrors to come when he didn’t know what they were likely to be.

“Welcome home, Master,” a spritely beta greeted the older man, rushing to take the chain from his hands. “And young sir. I trust you had a productive day?”

The older man smiled, while the younger looked at James with an unreadable expression.

“Thank you, Mordin,” the older man said. “This is James.” James almost did a double take at the sound of his name. No one had called him that in weeks, and it was a shock to realise that this new master had bothered to learn it. “Please see him to the omega’s quarters and let him rest. He’s had a long day. And please find him some appropriate clothes.”

“Yes, sir. At once, sir,” Mordin said, but before he could lead James away, the younger man called him back. 

“Wait… here…” he pulled out another key, and reached forward, undoing James’s shackles with it. And then he looked James in the eye, his gaze steady and unwavering. “You harm anyone on this estate and I’ll see you back in the slave market before the day is through. You understand?”

James didn’t. Despite his firm words, the man’s voice was soft, compelling, and he found himself nodding almost against his will.

“Good. Now get some sleep. You look exhausted.”

James was outraged, this kindness confusing him and irritating him, and he followed Mordin hesitantly, repressing the need to rub his wrists from where the shackles had scraped them raw.

They went to a small storage room first, where Mordin ferreted around in a closet before emerging with a pair of pants and a shirt, both large and soft, and instructed James to put them on. He did, allowing Mordin to take away the filthy pants he had been wearing, and he supposed that in a place like this, the slaves were not allowed to bring shame to the masters by wearing dirty clothes. Most of the nobility loved to show off their wealth, and if they chose to do it by dressing even their slaves well, who was he to complain?

As they crossed the estate, Mordin pointed out the various buildings, the Master’s house, the cottages where the betas lived, the barn where the cattle and sheep spent the winter, the grain storage. And then they stopped outside a long, low building, tantalising smells making James’s mouth water and his stomach clench with hunger.

“Go straight through the kitchen,” Mordin instructed him, and James realised that this was the end of the tour. “The omega’s quarters are on the far side. There’s a free bed at the end of the second row. Turn the disc at the headboard from white to red to show that it’s taken. Dinner is served at seven thirty.”

And then the energetic man was gone, leaving James to enter, or not, as he saw fit.

And good god, what was he supposed to do now? He’d been bought by this new master, so recently that he hadn’t even been tattooed yet, and he was already left to his own devices, to wander the property, to run away, if he chose…

But despite his profound desire to flee, James knew that such a move was pure folly. From everything he’d seen of the estate, the logical conclusion was that he’d been bought as a house-mate, one of several, if the wealth around him was anything to go by, and despite the constant anger and simmering nausea inside him, it was a far better existence than the one he had been facing only hours ago. The only thing that made no sense was _why_ he’d been bought, when he was clearly little better than a whore. Nobility didn’t choose whores as house-mates, and he braced himself for a nasty surprise in the not-too-distant future. Maybe the younger man liked to beat his omegas, and wanted one he could damage without worrying about scars. Maybe they had an alpha relative who was ugly, marked with sores or crippled, who didn’t want to sully a more expensive omega.

Such was the life of the omega, the choice before him now one of obedient slavery, or futile rebellion. 

He pushed the door open and forced himself to walk through the kitchen towards the omega’s quarters.

But he’d barely set foot inside the door when a plump cook looked up from the stove and beamed at him. “Well, hello!” Her sharp eyes cast over his tattoos, creeping up his neck like vile serpents, and her smile warmed and softened a little. “Ah, so you’re the new omega. I’d heard they were going to buy one. Welcome to the Cortez Estate.”

James grunted at her, hating that soft smile, and headed for the far door… only to be stopped by a wooden spoon planted firmly in his path.

“Not so fast,” the woman said. “First, you need to eat something. You look like you haven’t had a decent meal in a week.”

It might have been longer than that, but James didn’t bother correcting her. Not on that detail, at least. “The master told me to.. rest,” he objected, the words sounding foreign and ridiculous even as he said them. He still felt that ingrained need to obey orders, but to rest? He had to have misunderstood the master’s instructions-

But the cook just laughed as his gruff words. “You are the personal omega of the first-alpha,” she said happily. “There would be hell to pay if I let you go without a decent meal. So please, sit down.”

It was the ‘please’ that did it, not a command, but a request, the first he’d heard in a long, long time, and so he sat, putting his back to the wall, making sure the doorway was within his line of sight. And the cook placed a meal of hot stew in front of him, thick with vegetables, chucks of meat floating in the gravy. Bread was placed beside him, thick slices to sop up the gravy, and he was hungry enough to dive right in without stopping to question what duplicity had led to this deviously generous act.

It wasn’t until he was halfway through his second helping that the cook’s words finally sank in. ‘Personal omega of the first-alpha.’

He was a what?

“What did you call me?” he asked without preamble, and the cook looked at him in surprise. 

“I didn’t say anything,” she said, with refreshingly honest misunderstanding.

“You said I was the personal omega of the first-alpha?”

“Well, I assume so,” she said, with troubling casualness. “The master and his son went to market to buy Steve his first personal omega. They came home with you.”

“Did they actually tell you that that’s what I was?” he asked, not liking where this was going. 

“Well, no,” the cook admitted. “But who else would you be? It’s not like we need another house-mate, and the master has said he doesn’t need a new breeding omega. So the only rational conclusion is that you belong to Steve.”

Steve. The younger man, the one with the sharp eyes and the soft, compelling voice. Something about that idea sent a thrill up James’s spine, though he honestly couldn’t tell if it was a feeling of excitement, or dread. 

“I think you must be mistaken,” he told the woman sadly, finishing his meal and standing up a little too quickly. “If you’ll excuse me.”

He let himself into the omega’s sleeping quarters and found the empty bed, turning the disc at the head around so that it showed red instead of white. And then he lay down without bothering to even undress, and closed his eyes. He doubted he would sleep – the sounds of the other omegas coming to bed would wake him, if his nightmares didn’t disturb him first. But the bed was made of thick straw, a comfortable mattress the likes of which he hadn’t seen in months, and his body was tired, both from the exertions of the day and the first good meal he’d had in weeks, and only minutes later, he was sound asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

James woke to glaring sunlight streaming through the windows, and he lurched out of bed in a panic. He’d be beaten for sleeping in, for missing his breakfast duties, and the master would refuse to feed him, and…

And where the hell was he, anyway? James looked around in confusion. The room looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t remember how he’d gotten here…

Oh, flaming hell… he’d been sold to the young nobleman. The cook had thought he was his personal omega… And as heartening as the thought would have been, James was more inclined to think it was a horrible case of mistaken identity. He was no longer worthy of even being a house-mate, never mind a personal omega-

The door opened suddenly and Mordin strode in, startling James and making him jump back into a defensive stance, ready to fight if he had to… But the beta looked just as startled to see him, and jumped back quickly. 

“Sorry! Wasn’t sure you were awake. Didn’t mean to startle you. To be expected, under your circumstances, I suppose. The master asked that I see you bathed and fed, and then show you your duties. Breakfast first. You’ve missed the cook, but there’s still bread and cold meat and if we’re lucky, we might find you some cheese.”

Cheese? He hadn’t had cheese since before he had discovered that he was an omega. It was expensive, not to be wasted on one so low…

“What station am I to have here?” James asked, even as he followed the man into the kitchen.

“You are the personal omega of the first alpha,” Mordin replied without breaking his stride. He set about cutting bread and fetching a dish of meat from the pantry, and James felt a horrible discomfort at seeing a beta waiting on him like he was a free-man. “I can… you don’t have to do that-“ he tried to interrupt, but Mordin waved him off. 

“I’ve been working here since I was twenty,” he said, running a hand through his graying hair. “And in that time I’ve changed nappies, been thrown up on, been kicked by horses and watched children be born. Messy business. Making breakfast is a walk in the park compared to that, believe me.”

James felt a sting of shame at the innocuous comment. He didn’t need to be told anything about the birthing process – he’d lived through it three times, and knew exactly how messy and agonizing it was. Not that he would say so here…

“Did the master tell you that himself?” he asked, knowing it was impolite. “That I was to be his personal omega?” His question implied that Mordin didn’t know what he was talking about, a sideways sort of insult from an omega to a beta, but he had to know for sure.

“Yes,” Mordin said simply, not looking the least bit offended. “Please, sit.” There it was again, that ‘please’ that had James all too ready to cooperate, simply for having been asked, instead of ordered. Not knowing what else to do, he sat, adding thin-sliced beef to soft bread… and good god, there was fresh fruit, sitting in the middle of the table. He froze with the bread halfway to his mouth, hungry as he was. He hadn’t had fruit in months, and even then, it had been dried, the winter harsh and supplies hard to come by. But sitting before him was a bowl full of fresh, ripe pears, and he tried not to stare at them as he ate. They were not for him. Not for an omega, and certainly not for a whore. 

But then, neither was cheese, which Mordin placed beside him… and suspicion broke in sharply. Nothing was given without a price being extracted, and these days, he was less and less willing to pay the price. So he ignored the cheese, ate the meal quickly and stood, clearing his own plate to the sink for the elusive kitchen maid to clean. And he actually caught a glimpse of the girl as he followed Mordin out of the room. She was young, no more than eighteen or nineteen, an omega, the tattoo of ownership rising to peek out the top of her dress, over her shoulder, and she avoided his gaze, looking almost fearful of him.

After months of living in the roughest conditions, James was used to people being wary of him, even enjoyed the slight thrill it gave him… but not this girl. He didn’t want her afraid of him, and the already heavy dread in his gut got worse.

“When am I to be tattooed?” he asked Mordin. According to his marks, he still belonged to Briggs, the construction man, and he needed to have a black line inked over the top of his mark, and the Cortez brand inked on beside it. 

Among omegas, tattoos were a mark of honor, or of shame. The more you had, the less worthy you were considered, having been sold over and over again, no master wanting to put up with you for long. James was only 24 years old, but already he had three brands, and was heading for a fourth. He didn’t know what had been paid for him with this latest sale, but it couldn’t have been more than fifty franks. And he still didn’t understand why he’d been bought into this estate in the first place. 

“The artist has been sent for, but the village is twelve miles away. He may be able to come today, but then again…” Mordin shrugged, and so it was out in the country. A rain storm could set plans back a week, a horse throwing a shoe could end an afternoon of travel… they were at the mercy of the gods, no matter the plans men might try to make.

“The omegas bathe in the wash-house,” Mordin told him, leading him into a wide room built of stone. A system of pipes filled barrels with water pumped from the nearby river, an ingenious system, and James once again found himself on the back foot. He was to be allowed to bathe? He hadn’t washed in weeks, and the dunking the guards had given him in the horse trough yesterday hardly counted. 

But then he realised that the wash was not for his own benefit, but that of the master. No noble liked to mate with a filthy, smelly omega, and it was his duty to keep himself clean and well-presented. A part of him was inclined to stay filthy just to spite his new master… but the lure of feeling fresh and clean was too much, and he quickly stripped off his clothes, not caring that Mordin stood watching, and scrubbed himself until his skin ached. The water was cold, but he made no protest – heating water just for omegas to wash in was a waste of wood and energy. But being clean was reward enough of its own, and he felt a slight easing of tension inside him as he dressed again, clean and dry, some ten minutes later.

He’d half-expected to be taken straight to the master’s chambers. Most nobles would want to try out their new purchase, and he found the tension returning again as he anticipated the rough pounding he would receive… and the by-now-familiar wave of panic rose again. Could he really do it? Could he lie still and placid beneath yet another alpha, knowing he had no right to object, no avenue for complaint if he was too rough, if it was too painful?

But Mordin was leading him not to the main house, but to the stables. And it was with no small amount of astonishment that he was shown his new tasks: His duties were to muck out each of the stalls, polish the tack and keep the carriage clean. It was hard, physical work, but the sort that James had been raised on, and a much better sort than his last position, acting as bed-warmer to any of the merchant’s pals. 

Mordin muttered something about having his own work to do, and then James was left there, with the rich smells of horse and straw in his nose, and a staggering sense of relief. He had work. Real work. And if he dared for a moment to believe he was a personal omega, then that meant a far lighter set of responsibilities as far as mating went. Even if the master wished to mate him every day, even if he was harsh and disgusting in his methods… he was only one man. There was no way he could keep pace with the three or four men that James had been required to mate each day during his time on the road. And though he still felt a lingering soreness from the rough use of him, it was heading for 24 hours since anyone had mated him – the longest stretch of freedom he’d had since being sold from his first master’s estate.

With a sense of hope and optimism that he knew was utterly foolish, James threw himself into his work. The horses smelled of earth and air, a cleaner scent that the stench of sex, and for an hour or two, he was able to almost relax. After carting barrow loads of manure to the compost heap, he set about scrubbing the tack. It was in sore need of cleaning, and he could only speculate on why it had been left in this condition. A slave taken ill? An emergency that required able bodies elsewhere? There seemed to be no shortage of personnel on this estate, and slovenliness didn’t seem to be tolerated, from what he had seen, so there must be some other explanation. 

He was scrubbing his way across a saddle, seated on a hay bale in the sun, when a shadow fell across him, chasing away his almost-good-mood as easily as it chased away the sun.

He looked up, heart in his throat, and saw Steve standing before him. Of course. It was only a matter of time before his master wanted to sample his new purchase, and James leapt to his feet, abandoning the saddle, standing with his head bowed and his heart racing. He needed to escape, to run away, to be anywhere other than here, other than with this man who expected to rut upon him and strip away more of his dignity and god, if he could only get his feet to move, then he would be off, running across the fields-

“The tattoo artist is here. He’s waiting in the main house.”

James’s frantic thoughts ground to a halt. The arrival of the tattoo artist was a good thing, he reminded himself. It meant that this family was planning on keeping him, that he hadn’t already cursed himself by doing something wrong, sleeping too late, eating too much, questioning the wrong beta…

With his mind in turmoil, he followed his new master to the house, feeling an obscene sort of relief when he was introduced to a wiry man in the cloak room, who was holding a tattooing needle and a palette of ink. He took his shirt off and sat before the artist, bracing himself for the sting of the needle-

“Wait.” A hand on his shoulder, a heavy pause, and he knew that the master was examining his other tattoos. Three sets, each a distinctive pattern that told of the status, the vocation and the region of origin of each of his masters. “You were the property of a Duke?”

That was both the good, and the bad of the tattoos. Even when crossed out, they still told a tale of his passage through life, of his stations, both high and low. “Yes, sir,” he replied, because what else could he say?

“Why did he sell you?” 

Oh god, he would have to ask that, wouldn’t he? And the truth had gotten no less painful with the passage of time. “I was his breeding omega,” James said through gritted teeth. “I failed to conceive, so he sold me.” The waves of shame came crashing over him all over again, as they had that morning when he’d woken to a pool of blood between his legs and the knowledge that he’d failed in his most basic duty as an omega. A breeding omega who couldn’t breed was worthless. 

And Steve seemed to agree. His eyes widened, and he actually took a physical step backwards. And James’s heart sank. Perhaps he wouldn’t be kept, after all. Not that he was here for breeding, but perhaps this nobleman had not realised just how useless an omega he’d bought.

“You were a breeding omega?” the master asked, stunned.

“Yes, sir.”

“And how many children did you have?”

“Three. One boy and two girls.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty four.”

“When was your last heat?”

“Four months ago.”

There was a pause, in which James stared at the floor, and Steve stood stock still. Finally, the tattoo artist spoke. “Shall I proceed?” It was a thin, hesitant question, and James braced himself for the sharp reply that would send him straight back to the markets-

“Yes. Of course. Carry on.”

James barely felt the first strikes of the needle, his body nearly numb from shock. He was to be kept. But on the heels of that thought came a much worse one. He was this alpha’s personal omega, and he seemed not to care that he’d bought a breeding omega who had been cast out for failure of duty. That fact alone held little hope for a bright future, and James knew that there were, in fact, worse things than being traded to strangers for a satisfying fuck. Gossip was rampant among omegas, and he’s heard more than his share of stories, on the road…

But then the sting of the needle overtook his runaway thoughts, and he gritted his teeth, determined to sit still and remain silent for the remainder of his branding.

 

 

Steve returned to his father’s study with a frown etched firmly over his face. A breeding omega. He’d acknowledged, in some dim corner of his mind, that James was a highly attractive omega. He was strong – an important trait for child-bearing. He was tall, fit, lean. And despite the scars, his face held a traditional sort of handsomeness that would have appealed to almost any alpha in the upper classes.

But to have been the breeding omega of a Duke… 

Life was strange, he acknowledged, even as he reflected on his own muddled history. Children – male children, at least – were all raised together until they hit puberty at age fifteen. And then the lines of social divide were drawn. Men who had been friends suddenly became distant acquaintances, as some grew into alphas, the upper class who would rule their estates, command property, own slaves, and others sank to become omegas, slaves even in the most luxurious of homes. The betas were somewhere in between. They might be lucky, and become business owners, tradesmen, merchants. Or they might become servants, though to be even a servant in the house of a nobleman was a good life.

It must be a rude shock, he thought, to have been raised in a house of nobility, and then to be sold on your eighteenth birthday because you were suddenly no longer considered a worthy member of the house. And omegas were never kept. The need for new bloodlines in the breeding stock meant that on a good day, they might be exchanged for an omega in a neighbouring estate, and on a bad day, they might be shipped hundreds of miles away and sold.

His new omega was angry, and scared, and jumping at every shadow he saw. The stray dog had been the same, staying due to his hunger and the promise of a good meal, but then slinking around with his tail between his legs, ears back, snarling and cowering at every turn. But Frank had been right – there was a vast difference between a dog and a man, not least because, as his personal omega, James had duties to be mated. And if he resorted to violence, as the dog had done, there was no way Frank would allow him to keep the man.

He’d wait a few days, Steve resolved. Aside from the need to settle into his new role, James was probably sore, injured from the rough matings he’d endured, and perhaps if he was given time to heal, then it wouldn’t hurt for him as it had during the mating in the holding cell. Steve was optimistic that he could make the mating enjoyable for his omega. The house-mates he’d mated with had seemed to enjoy it, each of them climaxing at least once, if not several times. And as his personal omega, James would be left alone by the rest of the staff, giving him some much needed breathing room. The betas had several other house-mates they could mate with, and his father had all but given up mating. He’d been particularly fond of his last breeding omega, and Steve had expected them to bond, for a while. But somehow they never had, and then the woman had died, leaving Frank with little desire for anyone else.

But James… There was a hidden violence in him, Steve acknowledged to himself, a wariness and watchfulness that were not at all natural in an omega. They were supposed to be placid, obedient, even rather dimwitted, according to the nobility. But James was none of these things, and aside from the simmering violence, Steve also suspected a keen intelligence behind those angry glares. He’d have to keep an eye on the man. He was not willing to let him harm the estate’s staff, not wanting to unleash unjust trouble on obedient servants and slaves. But he was also not willing to let James deliberately harm himself or sabotage his own future. He was no stray dog, Steve reminded himself, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t respond to kindness the same way the dog had – with wary trust, and ultimately, unwavering loyalty.


	4. Chapter 4

James waited all day to be summoned to the master’s bed. He hefted hay bales for the horses, he swept the stables, he polished the seats in the carriage, and always with an ear open for sharp, confident footfalls heading his way, ready to demand the use of his body for his master’s pleasure.

But the call never came, and by the time he sat down to eat dinner with the other omegas, he was feeling confused and angry. Why had he been bought, if not for sex? The master was young, fit, healthy, as far as James could tell. Had he been demoted already, lost his status due to his checkered past?

There were eight omegas in all on the estate, along with twenty betas and eight children, ranging in age from one to fifteen years old. After giving birth, omegas took a full year to return to heat, so one child every two years was the most the average estate could hope for. The only way to have more children was to own more than one breeding omega – something most estates could not afford. 

Most of the betas had been born here, he’d learned during the day, but all the omegas had been bought. The only difference was that the other seven had been bought as certified omegas or virgins, and most of them had been sourced from local estates. 

James kept to himself during the meal, listening to the others talk, making mental notes about the betas, the other local alphas, and of note, he learned that the brother of the master of the house was due to visit shortly, bringing his natural alpha son with him. The omegas – all house-mates – were not looking forward to the visit. The son, Alistair, was known for liking his matings rough, and he’d been reprimanded on his last visit by the master for injuring Henry, an omega in his twenties. 

James toyed with his food, torn in two directions. He longed to ask what Steve was like in bed, whether he also liked things rough, whether he had any kinks – forewarned was forearmed, after all – but to ask such a question would only bring attention to his status as personal omega, and doubtlessly lead to a flurry of questions about his past and how he had ended up in such a station. The others already knew he had four tattoos, and had no doubt spent the afternoon speculating about how he had managed to be sold so often.

He’d also learned, through subtle eavesdropping, that the master was not, in fact, a nobleman. Several generations ago, one of the family’s ancestors had done a rather significant favor for a local baron and been gifted the land as a reward. The details of his service were now lost, but the family had set about working the land and had been careful with their investments, and had risen to hold significant wealth. 

He could feel the gazes of the other omegas on him throughout the meal, but he ignored them. Let them think what they liked. He was in no hurry to explain himself, and he’d find out soon enough what the master wanted in bed. The master would call for him this evening, he was sure, and perhaps he simply hadn’t gotten around to it yet due to his own pressing duties. Summer was a busy time, after all, but alphas were all the same. He’d want to know that James was a good lay, and to assert his ownership rights over him. It wouldn’t be long now…

 

 

James lay in bed, unable to sleep for two completely separate reasons. The first was that the master still hadn’t called for him. He’d bathed with the other omegas, washing away a day’s worth of dust and sweat, then retired to his bed, exhausted from a day of worrying and thinking and nervous anticipation that had yet to be resolved. The waiting was almost worse than the fucking… though he knew he’d change his mind about that the moment the master sent for him. Then, he was sure, he’d be more than willing to go back to the waiting…

But there was also another reason he was lying awake. 

There was a room next to the omega quarters kept specifically for sex. Sometimes house-mates were called to their partner’s bed, but often it was more convenient to just use the mating room – particularly for visitors to the house. And just before he’d gone to bed, he’d seen Mordin heading in there, the young omega kitchen maid trailing behind.

Her name was Liara, he’d learned, and she’d been brought to the estate just three months ago, sold at her eighteenth birthday. She was only five months past her first heat.

He’d felt sick at the sight, knowing what was going to happen behind that door, and wondering how Liara felt about it. When he himself had been sold to his first master’s estate, he’d accepted the sex philosophically. And he’d been no older than Liara when he’d been mated for the first time. His master had been a strange man, finding some odd satisfaction in rubbing his erect cock all over James’s body before finally taking him, and though it had been strange, and a little disgusting at times, it hadn’t been painful and he’d supposed that the life of relative comfort he led was worth a few indignities from his master.

He wondered if Liara felt the same. He’d liked Mordin, had started to see the man as a potential ally, and certainly as a good source of information.

But now? Now he wanted to rip the man’s throat out for daring to touch the girl.

The moans and rhythmic thumps drifted through the wall, making him grit his teeth and grip the sheets in his tight fists to keep himself still. Thank god Mordin was only a beta – he wouldn’t be knotting Liara, and so the sex would be over all the sooner.

He thought again about his own situation, and whether he’d be able to tolerate the master’s attentions. But if he was this worked up about someone else being mated, then the chances of him accepting another alpha inside him without wanting to start a fight were slim. 

Finally, the moans and thumps stopped, and a few minutes later, Mordin left the room, weaving quietly through the rows of beds to the door. Liara emerged soon afterwards, and even in the dim light, James could see that her face was carefully neutral, an expression every omega learned to wear, one that was designed to cover all manner of emotions – disgust, anger, sorrow, frustration, fear.

But as she passed his bed, she happened to glance down, and somehow, in the darkness, saw him watching her. Her step faltered, and a flash of fear crossed her face. She quickly averted her eyes and hurried back to her own bed.

And somehow, that one look made James feel like more of a bastard than he thought Mordin was.

It was a long time before he finally fell asleep.

 

 

It was a full five days before James was finally called to the master’s bed. Five days in which he had learned a number of things, ranging from the mundane to the incredible. He’d learned his way around the estate; learned that he was to be fed two full meals each and every day; realised that regular bathing was not only allowed, but expected of him. He’d gained back a little of the weight he’d lost in the last few months, muscles filling out and his usual energy and stamina returning. Getting back to full strength would take longer, but now that he wasn’t starving and exhausted all the time, he felt more able to deal with the master, when he finally did call.

He’d also managed to have a short conversation with Liara. The girl was still wary of him, but he’d ascertained that, while she had no particular fondness for Mordin – he was too old for her to have any real interest in mating with him – she also had no objection to her duties in the bedroom. The betas here were all gentle and considerate, and she had never been harmed by any of them.

It was a blissfully naïve state of mind, and one that James found himself envying. Six months ago, he’d have given much the same answer if asked about his mating duties. Life had given him a change in perspective in a very hard lesson.

But there were two other questions he was desperate for answers to, which he didn’t dare ask her. One was what Steve was like in bed. The wait to be summoned was becoming almost embarrassing, and despite the realisation that he would get a refreshingly honest answer from Liara, it would also give away the fact that Steve had yet to mate with him. And he was uncertain enough about his future as it was, without causing more speculation amongst his fellow omegas. 

The other question was why she was so scared of him. He’d taken pains to cross paths with her in an open area – the water barrel behind the kitchen, where she wouldn’t feel cornered, and where a handful of betas were within eyesight. But even so, the conversation had been short and stilted, Liara excusing herself quickly with a bucket of water for the kitchen.

But finally, on the afternoon of his fifth day, James heard the sound he’d been expecting, and dreading, for nearly a whole week. The quick, sure tread of an alpha with a purpose and a destination in mind.

“James.” He’d forgotten how soft and smooth his master’s voice was, having hardly seen him all week. The rumor mill had informed him that there had been a business problem, something to do with the price of wool, and a sale gone south. The estate’s extensive sheep flock was due to be shorn in another month, and no doubt Steve and his father had been tied up sorting the mess out. 

Was that why he’d taken so long to call upon James? Even so, surely he’d have been around in the evenings, eager to put his newest slave to work?

As James straightened, putting down the bale of hay he was carting, he suddenly regretted choosing to work without a shirt on today. His tattoo was still stinging a little, and the day was warm, making this the more comfortable option… or at least it had been until he saw that his master was running his eyes appreciatively over the wide expanse of his muscles. That, at least, hadn’t changed – every alpha he’d ever met had gotten a hard-on over his physique, and over the idea that they could subdue such a virile specimen.

Personally, James had never understood what the fuss was about. He was an omega – of course he had to mate with them. He was only doing what the natural order of things dictated he do.

If he had been bothered with such things, he might have noticed that his master was rather easy on the eyes, himself. He had foreign origins – the coffee-colored skin spoke for itself – but he spoke French perfectly, so he must have been born in France. James himself had been born in Spain, his colouring slightly darker than the locals, but he spoke both French and Italian fluently, as well as his native Spanish. A year ago, his master’s velvety voice could have been used to seduce him to good effect. Now, it aroused a strange sort of nostalgia that both irritated and frightened James, and he felt himself tensing as it became obvious what his master wanted.

“Come over to the main house,” the master said softly, and, heart in his throat, James obediently tossed his tools down, grabbing his shirt on the way past and pulling it on as he followed his master.

The last five days had been both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because his body had had time to heal, and James no longer felt a jab of soreness whenever he sat down, no longer passed blood along with his stools. But also a curse – if this had happened five days ago, James may well have fought his master, refused to mate, and been shot for his disobedience. A fast end to a painful life, his anger sharp and raw, eager to find purchase in a worthy target… 

Now, though… James was disgusted with himself, even as he considered his situation. He had food, clothing, a bed to sleep in and the relative safety of being owned by a single estate, rather than drifting from village to village. He stared at his master’s feet as they led the way to the main house, contemplating what he would be willing to do, what part of himself he would give away to keep what he had here. His body, of course, no question about that, but what else? His dignity? His self respect? His spirit? His free will – what little of it he had – sold for a full belly and a warm bed? 

God, he hated himself.

But was it really worth cutting off his nose just to spite his face? He could fight, object, punish this man, this alpha, for exercising his natural right to mate… but at best, he’d be sent back to the markets to be sold to the nearest whore house. And would he be any better off then? Not likely…

But if he wanted to keep his station here, personal omega to the first alpha, he’d have to do better than lying on the bed like a wet blanket, letting his master mount him. He’d have to show some willingness, some enthusiasm, some effort to ensure his master’s pleasure and satisfaction… and the very thought of it had James swallowing hard, fighting back nausea.

And with it came the stark realisation that he actually knew very little about how to please an alpha. His first master had been old, in his fifties and, aside from the odd kink about rubbing his genitals over James, he’d been a very perfunctory lover, mounting James from behind, lying limp on the bed throughout the knotting, then leaving as soon as the knot deflated. He’d been more animated during James’s heats, but even then, James had been worried he’d overexert himself and have a heart attack, leaving James knotted to a corpse. 

The men James had been mated by since he’d been sold had required very little of him but the use of his ass and the occasional desire that he bleed for them. 

An omega’s training was all about how to be an obedient slave, what to expect during a heat, and how to look after his body during a pregnancy – it had nothing at all to do with the art of having sex, the school assuming that the necessary information would be passed on by the omega’s first master. And so, when James racked his brain for details as to how to satisfy an alpha, how to prove himself a worthy and desirable omega… he came up with absolutely nothing. All he actually knew how to do was have babies, and he’d proven he wasn’t even particularly good at that.

But it was too late for speculation and regret, he realised. He’d been following his master blindly, eyes on the floor, and he suddenly realised they’d come to a stop. He heard the dull thud of the door closing behind them, and lifted his eyes to find himself in an opulent bedroom. Good god, was this how alphas lived? The bed was wide and covered with fine linen and thick blankets. The floor was covered with rugs, the windows draped with elegant curtains, fine paintings hung on the walls, and James suddenly felt like a stain on a nobleman’s tunic. He was utterly out of place here.

He braced himself for hands stripping his clothes off, hot breath against his neck… but what his master did next shocked him more than any rough pawing ever could…


	5. Chapter 5

“How are you settling in?” Steve asked his omega, as he closed the door to his bed chamber. James looked tense, and Steve regretted the lack of attention he’d given him over the last few days. He’d intended to spend time with him, talking, showing him around the estate, but then that damned wool trader had pulled out of a deal to buy half their wool for the year, and they’d been left scrambling to find another buyer, all Steve’s time taken up in meetings with middle-men and trips to the village to work their network of buyers. Their wool was of the finest quality, and there was usually no shortage of interested parties, but to have to renegotiate a full half of their production in a few short weeks was a nightmare. 

But yesterday, the breakthrough had come, and a merchant from Paris had signed a deal that would save the estate from a serious financial downturn. And so today, Steve had resolved to finally spend some time with his omega, making up for the neglect he’d shown him all week.

But now that he’d asked the question, James looked like he’d just been asked to walk over hot coals with bare feet. Steve mentally checked himself. He wasn’t crowding James, his stance wasn’t aggressive, he wasn’t forcing eye-contact – something omegas had been trained to avoid, good manners dictating they keep their eyes lowered unless specifically instructed otherwise. But James was reacting as if he’d pinned him in a corner and threatened him with a hot poker.

“Fine,” he bit out finally, his breath short and rapid. Hmm… how to get him to relax a little. For all that he’d told his father he knew what he was doing, Steve had acknowledged to himself that he might have jumped in without checking the water depth. Men were more cunning than animals, understanding not just kindness and harm, but also manipulation, duplicity, deception. And James was showing signs of intense stress…

Shit… maybe he should have started this conversation in the stables, Steve realised too late. They should be somewhere James felt comfortable, but he’d been more worried about prying eyes and eavesdropping ears, wanting to be able to discuss things on a more private level – his first mistake, and probably not his last, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t make up for lost ground.

He moved further into the room, away from the door… shit, shutting it had also been a bad move… and Steve realised that he’d better get his act together quickly. He wanted James to fit in here, wanted him to be able to make the most of a fuller, calmer life than the one he’d known, but in order for that to happen, he had to get James’s cooperation in the matter.

Kindness, he reminded himself. Gentleness, honesty, patience. That’s how he would win James over. He seated himself on a lounge and gestured for James to take the opposite seat. He didn’t move.

“Please, sit down,” Steve said softly… but if anything, James only turned paler. And then his eyes narrowed, his chin lifting… and Steve braced himself for an eruption of anger.

But James stalked forward and sat, surprisingly graceful for a man so large. And while he wasn’t looking Steve in the eye, he was certainly not looking at the floor, either. An act of rebellion, or just nerves?

Steve spied a bowl of fruit on the table beside him, and he moved it to the lower table between them.

“Would you like some fruit?”

He watched as James’s eyes were instantly fixed to the bowl… but the man didn’t move. 

“Please, help yourself.” And just to show him it really was okay, Steve took a piece himself, a mandarin, one of the first fruits to ripen after winter, and set about peeling it with deliberate casualness.

James didn’t move, didn’t reach for the bowl, didn’t take his eyes off it, either. 

“Are your quarters warm enough?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“You’re finding your way around okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

They were short, simple, yes/no questions, designed to ease him into a proper conversation, and Steve reminded himself to be patient as James continued staring at the fruit. “We have our own orchard,” Steve explained, not sure what the fixation was, but wanting to explore it, if he could. “Pears, apples, citrus. The blackberries will be out in another month or two. The cook makes a mean blackberry tart.”

No response.

“I’m sorry I haven’t spent any time with you over the last few days,” Steve said, knowing that apologising to an omega would sound a little strange, but unable to help himself. “Business has been taking up all my time.”

No response. 

“You know, it really is okay for you to eat the fruit,” Steve reminded him, and for a split second, James’s eyes darted up to his face, as if to check his sincerity. As unflattering as it was, he saw a marked similarity between James and the stray dog he had tamed. The first strip of meat he’d thrown to the dog had sat on the ground for a full fifteen minutes while the dog stared at it and drooled, before finally working up the courage to creep forward, tail between his legs, grab the meat and run away again.

James’s hand darted out and snagged a pear, holding it tightly in his lap as if not sure what to do with it now. Steve calmly finished off his own piece of fruit, having to stop himself from grinning when James finally lifted the pear and bit into it. He left off the conversation until he’d finished eating, not wanting to inadvertently disturb what small progress this was. But when he’d finished and discarded the core in the dish beside the fruit bowl, James returned to being just as tense as he had been before. 

Okay, perhaps a sideways approach wasn’t going to work here. Steve tried a more direct route, aiming to maintain as unthreatening a stance as possible while he did so. “Is there anything that’s bothering you?” he asked softly, eyes roaming James’s face for clues as to his mood. “You seem very tense.”

Instantly, James fidgeted, sitting back in the seat, trying to look more relaxed. “I’m fine,” he said sharply, then winced. “Sir,” he added belatedly, colour flushing his cheeks.

“Perhaps we could take a walk outside. I could show you the-“

“No!” James blurted out, then instantly looked shocked at his own outburst. “Yes, sir, I mean. Of course.”

No? Meaning he didn’t want to spend time with Steve at all, or he just wanted to stay indoors with him? Steve took a slow breath and reached for calm. He sat forward in his seat and reached out, taking James’s hands in his own, a gentle, soothing, non-threatening touch that was loose enough for James to pull away if he chose. “James. What’s bothering you?”

James’s fingers twitched, as if to pull away, but he stayed where he was. But he didn’t reply. Steve reached out and lifted James’s chin. “Look at me. It’s okay. Just look at me.” James did, his eyes darting about, left, right, down, and finally settling on Steve’s face. “What’s bothering you?”

“I… you… I don’t… What station am I to have here?” James asked finally, and Steve rocked back, cursing himself as the most stupid idiot. Had he never even explained it to the man? No wonder he was nervous, completely in the dark about who he was and why he was here. 

“You’re my personal omega,” Steve said, expecting the news to relax the man. It was a higher station than house-mate, which James had likely assumed he was, but the lack of attention from the betas during the week was bound to have confused him. But if anything, the news only made James more unhappy. “What’s wrong?” Steve asked, a little more sharply than he had meant to.

“You haven’t-“ The sentence was cut off sharply, and Steve waited a moment to see if he would finish it. But James said nothing more, his body tense, as if he wanted to run away…

“I haven’t what?” 

“I thought you would… Usually when I… It was… You haven’t mated with me,” James said finally, jaw tense. “I thought I was… Do you not like me?”

Steve’s eyebrows rose in astonishment. So that was the problem? James was upset because he thought he’d been rejected, lost his station before he’d even had a chance to earn it?

Steve smiled in relief. Perhaps this would be simpler than he’d thought. He reached out again, covering James’s hands with his own. “I like you very much,” he said, keeping his voice soft, but letting a hint of his desire spill out as well. “I haven’t mated with you because I wanted to let you heal. You were injured after your last mating.”

And finally, James seemed to relax a little. “I am healed,” he said simply.

Steve felt himself harden instantly at the news. This was hardly what he’d had planned for the afternoon, imagining instead an hour or two of slow conversation, a walk around the estate, perhaps. But if James was eager to mate, to have his status in this house secured, then Steve was more than willing to accommodate him. He stood up, holding out his hand to James, who took it hesitantly. “Come over here,” he invited him, leading him towards the bed.

Now that they were both on the same page, Steve couldn’t help but run his hands over those hard, sculptured muscles. What would they feel like, pressed against his body? Such strength, such sensuality… he tugged James’s shirt over his head, the omega raising his arms compliantly, and then Steve’s hands were back on his chest, exploring hard muscle that twitched beneath his touch. James was breathing quickly, and he reached out a hesitant hand to touch Steve, to tease the bottom of his shirt, as if asking for permission, and Steve dragged the thing over his head eagerly, tossing it away across the room. There were more scars over James’s chest, accompanying the ones on his face, and Steve explored them with his fingers, wondering what hardship, what fight had caused them. 

 

 

James held himself still as the master stroked his flesh. He was making rapid mental notes about his actions, trying to remember every detail in case Steve expected him to do the same thing in return later. So far there had been no hint of any roughness, no shoving or pulling, no smacking, no tugging on his hair… but they had only just begun. And, if James was honest with himself, Steve’s gentleness was more unnerving than any beating could be. His fingers were soft against James’s calloused ones, his touch light and sensual, leaving James off balance and fighting for breath. He had to get away from here, had to flee, he couldn’t stand another alpha pushing inside his body…

Steve curled a hand around the back of James’s neck and pulled him closer… but when his lips met James’s, a soft collision of warm, moist skin, James pulled back sharply, shoving the master away roughly, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand…

And good god, he’d just assaulted his master, he realised, as his legs ran into the bed and he came to an abrupt halt. He’d just refused his master, and a beating would be the least of his troubles-

“Sorry! I’m sorry.” There it was again, that ridiculous apology from master to slave that had James’s world spinning, and he felt a burst of anger that made him want to smash his master’s face into the wall. 

He was looking his master straight in the eye, James realised in a flash, and quickly lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “You just… that startled me.” If he was trying to impress his master by being an obedient omega, then he was failing miserably. 

Silence hung in the room, but James didn’t dare look up, didn’t dare try to explain anything, lest he make the situation worse, and he held himself still, ready to calmly accept the slap across his face that was his due for his disobedience…

“You’ve never been kissed before, have you.” It was said as a statement, but James felt the need to reply anyway.

“No, sir.”

He saw the master nod, out of the corner of his eye, and then braced himself as he moved closer again, one firm, gentle hand reaching out to cup James’s cheek. “Let’s try it again. Just relax.”

He tried, he really did, but when the master’s tongue pressed into his mouth, he felt like he was choking, the sensation reminding him of other things being shoved into his mouth, and it was all he could do to manage not to bite him. When Steve pulled away, James cursed himself for not paying more attention – he should have been learning how to kiss, learning what this new master liked, not wallowing in his past. But it was too late now, and they were back to Steve’s hands all over his chest, then around to his back, as he circled behind him. 

 

 

James had tasted of the pear he’d eaten, and he’d responded to Steve’s encouragements in slow degrees, his tongue pressing against Steve’s, his mouth opening wider to allow him access, and he indulged in the idea that James had enjoyed the kiss, despite his nervousness. And holy hell, he was a fine specimen. How he’d ever been sold into a life of such hardship was a mystery. He should have fetched a fine price, sold as a personal omega, or a house-mate at the very least. One day, Steve would tease the details out of James. But for now, he was still far too skittish to answer such probing questions. He continued exploring his body, opening his pants, murmuring encouragements for James to step out of them, even as he felt the growing discomfort of being confined inside his own pants. But he was determined to proceed slowly and calmly, not wanting to frighten the man now that they were making such progress. Long minutes later, Steve finally slid his own pants off, relieved at the freedom of having his swollen cock unrestrained. And then he tugged James over to the bed. 

“Lie down,” he murmured, wanting to continue their slow explorations in a more comfortable position… but he felt his jaw drop as James promptly knelt on the bed, ass in the air and leaned down on his elbows, presenting himself for Steve to mount.

Steve bit back a sigh. What the hell kind of alpha had James had, if this was all he knew about sex? He had clearly known nothing about foreplay, his efforts to arouse Steve tentative and clumsy, and now he expected him to just get up behind him and…?

Hell, he wasn’t even hard, Steve realised, seeing James’s limp cock hanging down beneath him, and he felt a wave of pity and confusion.

But then again, he’d realised by now that James had a serious case of performance anxiety – a justified fear, given his apparent inexperience – and to tell him he was doing it wrong wasn’t going to earn Steve any points in the trust department. So instead he knelt up on the bed, moving in close behind James, determined to continue their foreplay but willing to work with his omega’s expectations.

 

 

James felt his whole body trembling as he knelt on the bed. The last ten minutes had been pure hell, confusion warring with revulsion in his head as he was touched everywhere by his master. He’d thought having him inside him would be bad enough, but Steve had wanted to stroke every inch of his skin, leaving trails of sensation that would be haunting James for weeks. It had almost been a relief when he’d finally told him to get on the bed, and James hoped this would be over soon, so that he could go and wash and try to scrub away the lingering sensations of fingers on his skin-

“Ahh! Shit…” The curse was blurted out involuntarily as James felt Steve’s hand engulf his cock. It was hot and wet, tugging his length in long, even strokes that lingered at the head and filled him with sensations that he hadn’t felt in a long time – not since his last heat, and even though that was only four months ago, it seemed like far longer. He hadn’t been hard, dreading the invasion of his body, rather than eager for it, but now he felt himself swelling into the hand that was wrapped around him. But overpowering that more pleasant sensation was the feel of the master’s impressive cock pressed against his thighs, ready and waiting to be shoved inside him, and despite having been given time to heal, he knew it would be painful – it always was now, his body having abandoned all attempts at lubricating itself, leaving him with a dry passage to be pounded into, and an ass that refused to expand properly for the knot, causing a tightness that was painful, rather than pleasurable, as it had been back in his first master’s house. 

And then he felt those incorrigible hands again, rubbing up and down his spine, and fuck, what was it about his body that made people want to rub themselves all over it? Wanting to encourage his master, both to secure his position as personal omega, and to get this the fuck over with, he spread his legs wider, an invitation few alphas would refuse…

“Lie down,” Steve said, pressing down on his lower back, and James did, laying flat, face down on the bed, his cock now pressed between his body and the sheets. His erection faded quickly, and he worked hard at evening out his breathing, bracing himself for a hard fucking. 

 

 

Steve was relieved to feel his omega harden in his hand, concerned that he should enjoy this, that it not be a one-sided taking, but a mutual sharing of pleasure. He knew that most alphas were not nearly as concerned about their omega’s welfare, thinking than any laxness on their part would lead to disobedience… but then, he’d also come to realise that his father had been in love with his last breeding omega, and the woman had been with them for the last ten years – almost the full amount of time that Steve himself had been on the estate. That odd, compassionate, not-quite-bonded relationship had been his model for how to treat his omegas, and despite the unconventionality of his views, Steve wasn’t displeased with the result. If anything, he had realised over time, omegas responded better to it than to the impersonal matings of more severe masters.

He encouraged James to lie down, wanting them both to be comfortable for the mating itself, and then slid his fingers down his ass to his opening-

Steve pulled back in surprise. That couldn’t be right… He pressed his fingers forward again, nudged the tip of one finger inside James’s passage… and realised that he was completely dry. Omegas were capable of self-lubrication, and he knew that some produced the moisture more readily than others, but he’d never mated with one who had failed to get wet at all. He glanced up, seeing James lying still, waiting for him… but no, he would never be able to mate the man like this. What had gone wrong? He’d done everything he could, trying to get him to relax, indulging in plenty of foreplay. He’d been gentle and considerate…

James hadn’t been certified, Steve realised with a heavy heart. Frank had warned him – a warning he hadn’t listened to – that James might not be able to be mated properly, that he might be injured beyond healing. But Steve had blustered on ahead, determined that he was right, determined that he could fix the omega’s problems. How naïve he’d been.

But James was still lying there, fidgeting on the bed, waiting to be mated, wanting to prove his worth as Steve’s personal omega… and all he really needed was a way to lubricate their mating, Steve realised, not wanting to disappoint the omega. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to James’s shoulder. “Wait here for a minute,” he said, darting off the bed and grabbing his pants. “Don’t move,” he added, when James looked around, starting in alarm as he saw Steve pulling on his pants. “I’ll be right back.”

It was the work of less than a minute to run down to the pantry and grab a bottle of oil. Olive oil was imported from Italy, expensive and difficult to come by, but he wouldn’t need much, and as the first alpha, he could use the stuff however he liked, Steve rationalized to himself. 

Back in the bedroom, James had indeed not moved an inch, but his previously relaxed stance was now fraught with tension, the muscles in his back clenching, his feet flexing again and again.

“Hey,” Steve ran a soothing hand up his thigh, setting the jar on the nightstand while he stripped his pants off again. “It’s okay. I just needed to get some oil.” James was staring at the jar in much the same way as he’d stared at the fruit – like it was an object from a foreign land that he’d never seen before – and Steve wondered how to explain it. He didn’t want to sound like James’s body was defective or insufficient, but he also wasn’t willing to hurt the man through careless sex.

“It’s so that… um… I was… You’re not…” He sounded a lot like James had earlier, stuttering and struggling to find the right words, and finally, Steve decided to just go with the truth. “You’re not lubing yourself properly,” he said. _Or at all_ , he added mentally. “I don’t want to hurt you, so we’re going to need some oil, instead.” He climbed back onto the bed, reached for the jar, and poured a dribble over his throbbing cock. He smeared it around, then pressed an oiled finger into James’s passage, feeling the muscles clench and spasm around his finger. He did his best to smear the oil around, but, never having had to do this before, he wasn’t really sure what to do. James seemed unperturbed by the whole situation, lying placidly on the bed, head pillowed on his arms, and in the end, Steve decided to just go for it. He wiped his hand on a handkerchief, then settled himself between James’s legs. Positioned himself at his entrance. Pressed forward… and holy shit, he was tight… Steve almost winced at the sensation as the head of his cock disappeared inside, and he had to pause, worried that he’d come too soon, and equally worried that he’d hurt James. Omegas were never this tight, not unless they were virgins straight out of their first heat. How the hell was he going to get inside?

 

 

James gripped the sheets with his fists, feeling the tight pressure of an alpha cock pressing into his body and fighting the need to throw up. He was grateful that Steve couldn’t see his face, and so he let himself wince and cringe as he pressed deeper, not bothering to try to maintain his carefully neutral expression of disinterest. Not that he’d had much luck with that today anyway, resorting to fear and confusion and anger at every turn. 

The oil made everything easier, though, and he admitted to himself that this mating wasn’t actually hurting. It was unpleasant and invasive and the hideous price to be paid for the relative security of living on this estate, but James was under no illusions that he’d managed to please his master – he’d stuttered and fumbled his way through the entire thing, but he wanted to stay here enough to force himself to lie still, and Steve had been determined to mate him… He was grateful for the oil, surprised that an alpha had thought of such a thing, and startled that Steve had even noticed that he wasn’t wet. But the knotting was still to come, and James tried to get his body to relax, knowing that being tense would only make the pain worse.

The rhythmic rocking of his body, the thrusting in and out stopped suddenly, and Steve swore and gripped his hips, and despite himself, James tensed, waiting… and then he felt the knot swell, filling his body, locking him to the alpha so that now he couldn’t escape even if he wanted to. But his body still wasn’t going to cooperate, wasn’t going to expand to accept the knot, and he felt a tight, pinching sensation that had him wincing all over again-

Steve grunted, a sound of startled discomfort, and then James felt a sharp tug and Steve pulled back. Something shifting deep inside him… and then the knot swelled further, suddenly able to fit inside James’s body in a way that it hadn’t in weeks. The sudden relief was so marked that James actually felt his body relax, his tense muscles becoming pliant, and he felt Steve’s rumbling moan of satisfaction, as the man’s weight settled down onto his back.

“Sorry,” came that nonsensical apology again. “Didn’t mean to hurt you, but your pocket is a little further back than usual. Just had to shift my knot down a bit.”

Say what? The ‘pocket’ as Steve called it was the area of the omega’s passage designed to expand to accommodate the knot. And for the most part, the two pieces of anatomy lined up properly so long as the alpha was pressed firmly and fully into the omega. But he’d felt Steve pull out slightly, a move which should have caused him significant pain, but… if he understood this right, it simply meant his body was designed slightly differently, needing the alpha’s knot to be lower in his body for everything to fit. 

Was this a recent development, or had he always been that way, James wondered… and then realised, with growing horror, that he was rapidly regaining his erection. The knot was pressing on a cluster of nerves that had not been put to use for weeks, if not months, and James felt an impending climax rising, his body tensing, his breath coming faster…

And Steve had noticed now, adding to his humiliation. He was going to climax from a mating that he had absolutely no interest in, from a man who had made him feel dirty and trapped. But also a man who had made sure he felt no pain by providing oil and shifting his knot around in unconventional ways. God, he was confused…

Steve was stroking his shoulder, murmuring words of encouragement, and then James tensed, crying out as his climax speared out of him, soiling the master’s sheets. Steve waited while the last shudders worked their way out of him, and then rolled them both over onto their sides, to wait out the rest of the knotting. James felt Steve’s arm laying around his waist, a light, relaxed pressure that he thought would make him feel trapped, but instead, only made him feel uneasy. He’d gotten through it, James congratulated himself darkly. He’d gotten through his first mating with his new master, and now that he knew what to expect, he could prepare himself mentally to have to do it again, in a few days, and again, a few days after that, and if he learned to do it better, then he’d get to stay, and not be hungry, and not have to sleep on hard ground and get his body invaded by strange men who didn’t care that he wasn’t wet. 

This was a good option for him, he told himself firmly, ignoring the tears pricking at his eyes. This was a better future than most he could hope for, and one he should work hard to keep.


	6. Chapter 6

James stared at the ground, standing in line with the other omegas, dressed in clean clothes and counting the minutes before he could go back to his regular duties.

Frank’s brother was arriving imminently, his carriage having been spotted from the rise behind the house and the house bell had been rung to alert the staff to assemble.

Rumors of Alistair’s sexual kinks had increased, each of the house-mates formulating strategies to avoid his attention for the time he was in the house, and James wondered if Steve was aware of the commotion the man was causing – even before he had arrived. 

His relationship with the master had continued, James constantly in fear of being thrown out, Steve persisting in his desire to mate with him. James had been taken three more times since that first mating, swallowing his revulsion to learn to pleasure his master better, and last time, Steve had taken James’s hand and put it on his cock, asking to be stroked. And James had done so with enthusiasm, delighted that during all the time his hand was on his master’s cock, that same cock wasn’t anywhere near his ass. 

He’d scrubbed his hand with soap and sand and the hottest water he could stand, once they were finished.

He’d continued to fail to get wet, and Steve had continued to provide oil to ease the mating. All things considered, it was a good arrangement, one of the best James could hope for, and he made an effort to be polite and to work hard, hoping that if his lack of enthusiasm in the bedroom was ever noticed, he could win back some favor through his diligence with his other duties.

The clomp of horses’ hooves filled the nervous silence, the last shufflings of the staff dying out at the carriage pulled to a stop. The door opened and James heard feet descending the steps, a light set, almost delicate, and then a much heavier set.

“Alfred. Welcome,” Frank greeted his brother warmly. “It’s been too long. How has Italy been treating you?”

“Very well indeed,” came the baritone reply. “There’s money to be made in every corner of the world, if you only know where to look,” he said with a chuckle, and James supposed that that might be true, if you had the liberty to go and look, and you weren’t metaphorically chained to a bedpost because you had been born an omega. 

And then he took a moment to wonder when he’d become so bitter about everything. He had a good life here, he reminded himself, and the thought only made him all the keener to get back to the stables and to the smell of hay and saddle polish.

“Alistair, it’s good to see you again,” Frank said, and if there was any lack of sincerity in his voice, then James couldn’t hear it. “You must be tired. Carolyn will show you to your quarters.”

Carolyn was a beta, and therefore out of reach of Alistair’s lascivious intentions, and James wondered whether Frank had chosen a beta to play as house-maid for that very reason. 

“Steve,” Alistair said, and James could detect a hint of disdain in his voice. 

“Alistair,” the master returned his greeting… and there was no mistaking the subtle undertone of warning on Steve’s voice. James had learned to read his expressions, to understand his tones over the past two weeks. They’d spent time together doing more than just mating – James had been given a tour of the orchard and allowed to help himself to more of that delicious fruit. He’d been taken on a ride, accompanying Steve to a nearby estate for a visit. And Steve had hung around the stables one afternoon, asking James about his duties, an experience James had found utterly awkward and disconcerting, and had been greatly relieved when it was over.

Alfred and Alistair’s luggage was removed from the carriage and hurried into the house, and then the men were led away… and the gathered staff breathed an audible sigh of relief. James turned to watch them go, catching just a glimpse of the two newcomers before they disappeared into the house, and while Alfred was much like his brother, lean and wiry, Alistair was far more robust, shorter and with an expanding waistline that made him look older than he was. 

James went to help the groom with the horses, knowing that his first duty would be to clean the carriage from top to bottom, making sure it was ready for its next journey. The rest of the omegas scattered, heading off to see to their respective duties, and James felt a trickle of relief that the long-awaited visit was now underway. Hopefully, with his uncle and cousin hanging around, Steve would be too preoccupied to want to mate with him, giving him a few days of peace, at least. It was hard to decide which was worse, his attentions in the bedroom, or his attempts to ‘get to know’ James. As far as James was concerned, there wasn’t much to know – not that he wanted known, at least. He was an omega. He was kept to provide sex for his master. The end. All the questions about what he thought of the design of the wash room, and how did he like the horses, and what was his favourite fruit were all futile window-dressing.

And if sex was his primary duty, then he was still failing at it abysmally. He couldn’t get hard until the knot was lodged inside him; he couldn’t get wet; he couldn’t figure out when he was supposed to touch his master, and when he was supposed to lie still and let him have his way with him. He’d never gotten the hang of kissing and had accidentally bitten his master the last time they’d tried it. He’d apologised profusely, but had still been shocked when he hadn’t been beaten for the infraction.

Horses, at least, made more sense to him, and James took the reins of one of the pair from the carriage from the groom, leading it away to one of the vacant stalls in the stable. More horses meant more work, which meant more of a reason to avoid the house and any interaction with these new and troubling house guests.

 

 

Alfred’s carriage driver was a beta, and he’d lost no time in availing himself of the local house-mates. Liara was the first to be chosen, and she’d borne it well, without complaint, even managing a vacant-eyed smile for the man when he’d kicked her out of the mating room. 

Then again, mating with betas was a walk in the park compared to the much more invasive stature of the alphas, so maybe her lack of concern was justified.

Helen was next, an omega in her thirties, still pretty, but beginning to show signs of age, and then it was Max, a slight man who was prone to scowling, but who was also a favourite of the betas on the estate. James had yet to hear the reasons why he was so favored, but when the carriage driver emerged from the mating room, he was grinning from ear to ear.

There had been no sign of Alfred and Alistair during the afternoon, and Carolyn had whispered over dinner that all the alphas were closeted away in a business meeting of some sort, causing the omegas to breathe a sigh of relief. They were likely to be left alone, for tonight at least, and James tried to imagine how he would feel if he’d been bought as a house-mate, instead of a personal omega. He was having enough trouble controlling himself with Steve. If he’d been mated by any of the betas in the house… he didn’t like to think what might have happened. He was growing to respect the staff – even like some of them – and he dreaded the thought of hurting any of them. But his anger still simmered too close to the surface, and he couldn’t help feeling that one day soon, it would spill out, harming one of his colleagues… or ending his stay on this estate for good.

The following day dawned cool and foggy, and the dreary atmosphere was getting most of the staff down. By ten o’clock in the morning, the fog had yet to lift, moisture clinging to clothing and hair and the horses’ coats, making the work of mucking out the stalls sticky and uncomfortable. James had stripped his shirt off, not for the heat, this time, but because he was sick of the clammy material clinging to his skin, and he was emptying a barrow-load of manure onto the compost heap when he saw the master and Alistair heading for the stables. 

With a sigh, he picked up the handles on the barrow and headed back, knowing it would be hard to avoid them. 

Sure enough, the pair was standing before one of the stalls, Alistair cooing over the mare inside. “She’s a fine horse,” Steve agreed. “Young, but showing good potential. If she turns out to be everything we hope, then we’ll breed her in a few years.”

“I’d love to have one of the foals,” Alistair said, as if it was his right, and who knows, maybe it was. Alfred was a Cortez, as was Alistair, and alphas tended to stick together in families, no matter what personal dramas were going on behind closed doors. James almost felt sorry for Steve, knowing that Alistair was his cousin and there would be no getting away from him. 

Rumors had again been circulating, this time of Alistair’s lewd comments to the omegas who had served him at dinner, the way he had groped Liara’s backside, the way he had glutted himself on the meal – not a surprise, given the girth of the man, but disgusting to watch, none the less. Liara had been closeted away in the pantry after that, the cook demanding that she examine all the vegetable stores for rot and insects, and Liara had taken to the work diligently, every other omega in the house grateful to the cook for the minor ruse. Liara was too young and too inexperienced to have the likes of Alistair set loose on her, and keeping her out of sight was the best option for the next few days.

“Speaking of breeding,” Alistair went on, “that young omega you’ve got is a hot piece of ass. I’d be breeding from her, if you get the chance. Love to see her belly swollen with a child. You know, omegas tend to get randy as hell during a pregnancy. Can’t get enough of it.” He cupped his own cock, and James felt his hands shake in outrage. If the man touched Liara, he was going to break every single deal he’d made with himself about maintaining his good behaviour and deck the alpha, consequences be damned. Liara was a beautiful young woman, vibrant, curious, kind… and far too fragile to go through the rigors of giving birth. Maybe in a few years she might be able to breed, but having been through the birthing process himself, James could testify to it being a true test of human endurance, and as strong as he was, he’d been bedridden for four days afterwards.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed Alistair approaching him, thinking the men were still occupied by the horses, and so the feel of a greasy hand running down his back came as a complete surprise. He spun around, darting out from under the touch… and saw that Steve was indeed still occupied, having ducked into the stall to check the mare’s hoof. Alistair, however, was now looking him over with a mix of lust and disapproval.

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you it’s rude to refuse an alpha,” he murmured into James’s ear, stepping closer, and in doing so, he somehow managed to corner James against a stack of hay bales. The only way he could leave was by pushing Alistair out of the way, and while he’d gotten away with it once with Steve, there was no way Alistair would be so forgiving. He froze, holding himself still, hoping Steve would be done with the horse soon.

“Maybe I was wrong,” Alistair said smoothly. “Maybe the girl isn’t the one we should be breeding.” He looked James over again, his eyes almost a physical caress, and James fought down nausea. “I bet you’d be a good ride. I could imagine you in heat, begging to get fucked, taking a thick alpha cock over and over again.” He ran a hand down James’s chest. “I bet you’d be a great breeder.” The hand came to rest on his belly, testing the limits of James’s self control. He had yet to utter a single word, a single sound, frozen in terror and revulsion, his fear and his training clashing in a way that could only end in violence.

“I’ll have you later,” Alistair whispered, so close now that James could smell his breath. “Can’t wait to have you under me, moaning for it-“

“Alistair!” Steve’s shout was sharp and angry, and he strode forward, yanking Alistair away from James. “James is my personal omega.” A simple statement, it was full of deeper implications. For a guest of the house to mate with a personal omega was a tremendous insult to the house. If done accidentally, it was hugely embarrassing for the alpha involved, and if done deliberately, it carried a penalty of monetary compensation, a fine paid for trespassing on another alpha’s property. 

But, far from any remorse or embarrassment, Alistair simply looked disappointed… and then had the audacity to look James over again. “Sorry,” he said to Steve. “Didn’t realise.”

And that was it, an apology to the alpha, but never to the omega. He wasn’t a person, he was property, James reminded himself, and then Steve was steering Alistair away, promising to show him the orchard. As he passed James, he reached out and patted his shoulder – a gesture which was no doubt meant to reassure and calm him. But good god, did he actually think he was helping? James wanted nothing more than to go and scrub himself in the wash room, and Steve thought putting more hands all over him was going to make him feel better?

James grabbed his pitchfork and disappeared into the nearest stall, shutting the door so that he could lean against the wall and pull himself together away from prying eyes. He was barely holding himself together as it was, and now there were more alphas on the estate, and a visiting beta determined to mate his way through the entire collection of house-mates…

If he made it though the next week without going mad, it would be a miracle.


	7. Chapter 7

James was filling the horses’ water buckets, the sun dusting the edge of the horizon, when he heard heavy footsteps behind him. He turned, knowing exactly who they belonged to, and wanting to be out of the way as quickly as possible…

But Alistair stopped in the doorway to the stables, his bulk casting a dark shadow along the aisle, and James gritted his teeth as he poured the last bucket-full into the horse’s stall. He’d thought he was done for the night, ready to head back to the kitchen and join the other omegas for dinner… but Alistair was bound to find some menial task for him to do, no doubt wanting to push his weight around after being told off for touching James earlier. And the quickest way to get out of here and away from the man would be to obey him, quickly and quietly, no matter how much it grated on James’s nerves, and then he could leave.

He waited as Alistair stalked towards him, taking his time, and James wondered if he knew that he wasn’t the first alpha to have felt threatened by him. There had been a similar man back on his first master’s estate, inclined to belittle James, to make his work longer and harder. He’d even taken to dropping things on the floor and asking James to pick them up while he’d been pregnant. He’d loved watching him struggle to bend over, the prominent bulge of his belly making the task all but impossible.

Alistair was of a similar nature, petty and mean, and James waited with a patience he hadn’t realised he still possessed for the man to snap out whatever demand it was he had thought up.

Alistair was in no hurry, however, and he strolled closer, giving James yet another lust-filled stare. “Look at you, lugging water buckets. All big and muscley. Personal omega. Who’d have thought.” He reached out and ran a hand down James’s chest, and the placid patience slipped a bit. Alistair was breaking a dozen social conventions with that one touch alone, and James wondered just how far he would try to push his point.

What did he hope to achieve, anyway? He was an alpha. James was an omega. Alistair had already won before the fight had even started.

“Steve’s a bit of a stick in the mud, you know,” Alistair went on, in a conspiratorial tone. “Loves to play by the rules. Goes on about respect and honor and integrity all the time. But you know what?” He leaned in again, sending his hand lower this time, brushing against James’s thigh. He gripped the bucket handle, trying to keep his hands still.

“I don’t like following the rules. See, you’re an omega. And I’m an alpha. And that means that if I want to shove my cock up your dripping wet ass, then I have the right to.” He took James’s hand and pressed it against his groin… and James shuddered as he felt the hard ridge of his erection pressing back against him.

“So here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to turn around and drop your pants, and then you’re going to keep real quiet while I fuck you senseless, and then neither of us are ever going to mention any of this to Steve. You understand me?”

Say something, James told himself, trying to pull his hand away. But Alistair just held on tighter, rubbing himself against James’s hand. “Say yes, omega. Say you’re going to cooperate.”

He let go of James’s hand suddenly and reached for his pants instead. James felt meaty fingers struggling to undo the fastening.

“I’m the personal omega of the first alpha,” he recited dryly, knowing Alistair wouldn’t listen, but needing to try anyway. “I belong to Steven Cortez.”

“Nice try,” Alistair said, his voice both impatient and smug. “Turn the fuck around.”

“No.”

The shock in the man’s eyes would have been almost comical under any other circumstances. James pulled the alpha’s hands away from where he was still struggling to open James’s pants. 

Alistair shoved James back against the wall, then grabbed his arm and tried to spin him around. “You don’t fucking talk to me that way.”

James pulled his arm free and shoved the alpha back. He weighed less than James, despite his love of too much food, and Alistair stumbled backwards in shock.

“Oh, you did not just do that.” He looked around, saw a riding whip lying against the wall, and grabbed it, swinging it up and lashing James across the face with it. “You want to play rough? I can do rough.”

“No,” James said again, and felt a strange, cool calmness settle over him. This was to be it, then. There was no way he was going to allow this alpha to mate with him, and if the man wanted to fight about it, then James would fight him. Omegas had been killed for lesser infractions than deliberately harming an alpha, and his life, despite the relatively positive turns of late, was going to meet a sudden and messy end very shortly.

But not before he taught this fat, nasty alpha a lesson.

Alistair swung the whip again… but this time James saw it coming. He dodged, and swung his fist at the man, feeling a deep satisfaction as if connected with the bones of his cheek.

Alistair screamed in outrage, and abandoned the whip in favor of a plank of wood. He swung it at James, and he felt a sharp pain as it connected with his ribs, but he used Alistair’s own momentum to grab the man and send him face-first into the wall. 

James was dazed enough by the pain in his chest to miss Alistair’s next move, not sure what he was hit with, but he felt it catch him across the cheek, ripping the skin open, and the sticky wetness of blood poured over his face.

A scream of shock broke into the fight, and James glanced around to see Mordin standing in the doorway, staring at the pair of them like they’d both gone insane. And maybe he had, James acknowledged, taking another swing at Alistair and busting his nose. It instantly started bleeding, and he wasn’t sure if he’d broken it or not, but enjoyed the thought that he had.

And then suddenly there were hands dragging him back and away from the man, Henry and Mordin and Steve pulling him back while Alfred and Frank went after Alistair, stopping him when he tried to get in another blow to James, and then there was shouting, lots of shouting, questions, accusations, and pain, all through his ribs, across his face, and the horrified looks of the other omegas. Alistair was escorted away, even while he was still demanding James be put down like a dog for his crimes… and then everything suddenly went quiet.

James was leaning against a wall, trying to breath through the pain in his ribs, and he glanced up to see where everyone had gone… 

From across the passage way, Steve was staring at him, such disappointment in his eyes that James wished the floor would open up and swallow him. Behind him, Henry and Max were waiting, eyes on the floor, and behind them, Liara was lingering, her eyes on James, her expression pale with fear. She looked away quickly as he looked up, then hurried away.

It had only ever been a matter of time, James reminded himself, as he limped back to the main house after Steve. He didn’t belong here, wasn’t worthy to live in an elegant estate with polite, well behaved omegas. If they didn’t kill him now, they would sell him, and James honestly couldn’t decide which would be worse. 

Aside from his short command to ‘Come here’, Steve hadn’t said a word to him, and if he had merely been angry, James thought he could have dealt with it. But it was the disappointment that got to him, the idea that Steve had thought better of him, and he had fallen short.

Didn’t matter now, though. His time here was over, and the next chapter of his life could only make it worse…

 

 

After Alistair’s wounds had been seen to and the rest of the house sent to their quarters, Steve paced the drawing room, the discussion with his father getting nowhere. James had also been patched up – if only to stop him bleeding all over the rugs – and now he was waiting in the sitting room. When Steve had left him, he’d been hunched over, miserable, and had seemed to be on the verge of tears a couple of times. He’d wanted to sit down, comfort the man, ask him very calmly and gently to explain what the hell he’d thought he was doing. But other, more pressing issues had pulled him away, and now he and his father were arguing over their next step.

“He’ll have to be sold,” Frank said firmly. “I warned you that if he harmed anyone on the estate, he’d have to go.”

“He’s been perfectly calm since he got here,” Steve objected. “He’s polite, he’s obedient, hell, I’ve been mating with him! He’s never done me any harm and he seems to… he _wants_ to please me. God knows what set him off tonight, but this isn’t his normal behaviour-“

“Yes, god knows what set him off,” Frank agreed. “And god knows what will set him off tomorrow, or the next day. Alistair said he went to the stables to have another look at your mare, and James just laid into him.”

“The omegas don’t like Alistair,” Steve tried to point out, but he was silenced as his father held up a hand to stop him. 

“Alistair is hardly a model citizen, but he’s an alpha, and a member of this family, and for all their dislike of him, the other omegas manage to be polite and obedient. None of them have ever taken to him – or any other alpha – with their fists!”

Steve shook his head. There was something wrong here. James was still flighty, still anxious, particularly when cornered, but he just couldn’t believe the man would snap for no reason. And so he decided to do something completely unconventional, something that had never before been done in this house.

“I’m going to talk to James,” he said. “I’m going to ask him why he did it.”

“You’re gong to what?” His father looked at him like he’d gone mad. “You seriously think you can ask an omega to explain himself? What has gotten into you!”

But Steve wasn’t hanging around to listen. He marched off down the hall to the sitting room, remembering at the last moment to open the door gently, to calm down, so as not to startle the very frightened, very angry man inside.

 

 

James didn’t bother looking up as he heard the door open. The alphas had no doubt made a decision by now – death or sale – and he wasn’t at all eager to hear the outcome. He recognised Steve’s footsteps, and his heart sank. If Frank has been the one to deliver the news, it might have been easier. But Steve was all gentleness and apologetic compassion, making it so much harder…

Steve sat down in the chair opposite him and breathed a sigh. “James?”

He nodded, still not looking up. 

“James, look at me.” 

He did, lifting his eyes to see the predicted compassion on his master’s face. Shit, he was going to draw this out, wasn’t he. Why couldn’t he just get it over with?

But, as he did so often, Steve managed to completely surprise him with his next words. “I need you to tell me why you hit Alistair.”

He wanted him to what? Omegas were not given the chance to explain their actions. Alphas and betas could be legal witnesses to a crime, but omegas could not. And an omega who had committed a crime was given no opportunity to defend themselves, their punishment decided by the testimony of their accuser, and the good will of their master. A master might choose to plead on behalf of their omega, if he was a particularly valuable one, or choose to pay a fine for the crime, if it wasn’t too serious. But more often than not, the omega was left to take the punishment, with no questions asked as to why he had done what he had – or even whether he had committed the crime in the first place.

James frowned at his master. “I don’t understand,” he said. What else could he say?

“Alistair says your attack against him was unprovoked. Is that true?”

James didn’t understand what was going on. He was being asked to contradict an alpha? Asked to call a member of Steve’s own family a liar? He shook his head, unable to find his voice.

“So he provoked you?”

He nodded, a tiny, nervous movement.

“What did he do?”

James swallowed hard. “He was trying to mate with me.” James flinched as Steve’s eyes widened. “You said I was yours!” he added through gritted teeth, and the words were laced with accusation, though whether it was for not protecting James as he should have, or for claiming him in the first place, even James didn’t know.

“I see.” Steve’s tone was unreadable, and the silence that followed was oppressive. 

“I didn’t want to hurt him,” James said, after a moment. “I just wanted him to stop.” He had no idea why he was trying to explain himself to this man. It wouldn’t make any difference why he’d done it, and he didn’t really know why he was being asked in the first place. 

But Steve nodded, as if suddenly understanding something, and he stood up. “Thank you,” he said, and left the room again, leaving James alone with his fears.

But the silence didn’t last long. A door slammed further down the hall, then angry footsteps hurried past, the tap-tap-tap of someone climbing the stairs rapidly. Then multiple sets of feet hurried down again… and that’s when the shouting started. James felt his face flush with embarrassment – no omega should be witness to an argument between their masters, and the walls were not thick enough to muffle all the words. He tried not to listen, tried not to think about the fact that he had been the cause of this uproar in the house… but then one sentence in particular filtered through the wall, clear as day, shutting off all rational thought. “James is not the problem here!” Steve shouted, the statement punctuated by a sharp thud. “Alistair is!”

Even the anxiety of the moment faded away after that, the sheer ridiculousness of it all making James suddenly want to laugh. His master was defending him against an alpha? He’d seen comedies played out in the public theatres as a child, but none of them had been half as ridiculous as what he had just heard. Maybe he was hearing things, he told himself. Maybe the blow to his head had finally made him lose his mind.

 

 

It was nearly two hours later before Steve came back, Frank on his heels. There was no sign of Alfred or his son. Both alphas were looking grim. “The situation has been resolved,” Frank announced flatly. “Alistair is to pay Steve compensation for damaging his property, a sum of thirty franks. He will be leaving the estate first thing in the morning. James, I want you to return to your quarters. You’ll take on light duties until your ribs heal. And while I would commend you for your actions in defending your master’s property, I would strongly suggest that in future, asking your master for assistance would be a far more appropriate way to deal with the situation than fighting with an alpha.” 

Frank had a point, James acknowledged, as he limped away to the omegas’ quarters. He could have shoved Alistair out the way and fled to the house. Running away might have damaged his pride, but it would have avoided the rest of this mess, and prevented this embarrassment to his masters. 

The other omegas were in bed, but not asleep when he arrived, and he ducked his head, hoping to avoid any further questioning… but it was not to be.

“What happened?” Henry whispered to him through the darkness as he passed his bed. “Tell me they’re not going to sell you…”

“No,” James replied, stripping his clothes off as he reached his own bed. And then he delivered the verdict that even he was still having trouble believing. “Alistair is to pay the master compensation for damaging his property.”

There were murmurs of approval at his words, and then Henry said, “Flaming hell, James… You’ve got balls of steel.” It was a compliment usually reserved for alphas, and James felt his heart warm at the idea that these people wanted him here, that they were relieved by an outcome that allowed him to stay. And so he added the other piece of news he’d been given. 

“Alistair is to leave the estate first thing in the morning.”

There was a collective sigh of relief across the room, and James lay down, a small, shy smile gracing his lips for the first time in months.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm... so I'm getting a lot of hits, but not much in the way of comments or kudos. Are people not liking this? Or are you just too shy to comment? I know this is an uncomfortable world, with the non-con and slavery and stuff, but I hope I haven't scared too many people away... or is it the mpreg that's scaring people? We haven't even gotten to that bit yet... *sigh* Oh well... I'll just continue writing to satisfy the frantic clamoring of the voices in my head...

“Paris? That’s a long way,” Frank pointed out as he listened to his son’s news. 

“Two days by carriage. But she’s a baroness. I can’t exactly say no.”

“She’s a beta.”

“And she’s nobility.”

“She’s only married to nobility.”

“And I still can’t say no.”

The argument was no surprise. Last winter, Sha’ira the Baronness had been passing through the local village and had twisted her ankle in a snow-filled ditch. Steve had been on hand to attend to her, arranging for the local doctor to come and see to her, and sending her on her way after a night’s hospitality in the Cortez Estate, and now she had sent a letter to Steve, asking him to visit her in Paris to be properly thanked for his kindness.

“She probably just wants to give me a new horse, or something. Putting on a show of generosity to appease the locals.” The nobility were both loved and hated in equal measure, and it was often a fine balancing act, trying to keep both nobility and commoners happy. 

“These lords and their ladies have no regard for anyone but themselves,” Frank complained. “It’s the middle of summer. Summer! We have a harvest to attend to, a flock to be shorn! How are we going to get anything done if she yanks the first alpha away in the middle of the busy season?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I’ll only be gone a week.”

Frank made a grumbling sound. “Take James with you,” he said at length, and Steve looked at him in surprise. 

“Why?”

“He can’t work. His ribs are still healing, and he’s hardly any use around here.” It was a complaint driven by frustration, rather than any real objection to James’s injuries, and even if he couldn’t perform his usual heavy labor, he was still making himself useful sorting the fruit crop for storage, or sale. It was a long task that required many hands, and the estate was hardly the worse for his lack of strength.

“And what am I supposed to do with an omega with broken ribs?” Steve asked, getting irritated now. He hadn’t mated with James in over three weeks, not since his fight with Alistair, and despite slaking his physical needs with several of the house-mates, he’d missed his omega’s company. 

“He’s nearly healed,” Frank said, back-flipping on his previous comment. “It’ll be good for him. Let him see a bit of the world.”

“He’ll be bored out of his skull,” Steve complained, even as he warmed to the idea. Despite his persistent efforts to get James to relax and settle into the estate, he remained jumpy, and a trip to Paris would give them plenty of time to talk. Frank simply gave him a look, and Steve sighed. “Fine. I’ll take James.”

“You’d have to take one omega or another anyway,” Frank went on, pushing the point despite Steve’s capitulation. “It may as well be your personal omega. How’s he coming along, by the way?” It was a reference to Steve’s efforts to domesticate the man, his general demeanor still wary and prone to undertones of violence.

“He has broken ribs,” Steve replied dryly, earning a chuckle from his father. 

“That man’s as tame as a wildcat,” he said, humour in his eyes. “But by all means, keep working with him. I’m most interested to see the result.”

Steve left the room to go and give James the news, knowing that his father’s jabs were not in any way an insult to Steve’s ability to calm the man. Rather they were simply a product of a steadfast belief that people didn’t change. Frank believed that James was mean and prone to violence… and the more he believed it, the more Steve was determined to prove him wrong.

 

Steve led James into their suite in the Baron’s residence, aware that his omega was utterly overwhelmed with their present circumstances, and knowing he needed to spend the next half hour talking him down. 

Though he’d been kept in a Duke’s estate, breeding omegas were never taken out to mix with high society. They were too valuable, and a pregnant omega was absolutely forbidden from any kind of travel. And so it was entirely probable that James had never been to any major city, had never rubbed shoulders with the nobility on their own turf, and his current situation of being in the house of a Baron, of being the honored guest of the Baroness, was far outside his comfort zone.

“Put the bags in the bedroom,” he instructed James, and then turned to the Baron’s omega, who had led them to the room. “When is dinner served?”

“At eight o’clock,” the girl replied, keeping her eyes on the floor. She was calm and relaxed, knowing her place and no doubt having had extensive training to teach her the duties and responsibilities of her position. 

“That will be all,” he dismissed her, and she turned and left, closing the door behind her.

Steve breathed a sigh of relief, letting his shoulders slump, closing his eyes briefly. Upon arrival at the Baroness’s house, they’d been given a warm welcome and an immediate audience with the Baron and his wife. 

It was an odd arrangement – not many nobles chose to marry, as an alpha couldn’t physically mate with a beta, and no omega would ever be considered a suitable spouse of a noble alpha. Marriage was generally considered a circumstance of betas, while alphas simply ran their houses as single patriarchs, relying on a ready supply of omegas to provide children and sexual services. 

As it stood, the Baron and his wife would never share a bed, would never consummate the marriage… but Steve had heard of odd threesomes forming, the alpha taking a male omega in his ass while his wife mated with his cock. He had no idea what the omega involved might think of the arrangement, but the whole thing seemed rather awkward and convoluted for his tastes. 

Now that the omega girl was gone, Steve headed for the bedroom, finding James standing in the middle of the room, eyes darting about apprehensively. He went to stand in front of the man, putting his hands on James’s hips, hoping to soothe his anxiety. “Are you okay?” he asked softly, knowing the answer he would receive even before he asked the question. 

“Fine.”

“You’re nervous. And I don’t blame you. It’s been a big day.”

James looked sideways, a tell-tale sign that there was something he wanted to ask, but was too afraid to.

“What is it?” 

“We’re to have dinner with the Baron?” James asked.

“Yes.”

“Both of us?”

“Yes. That’s the usual custom for nobility. Personal omegas eat with their masters during dinner. The house-mates serve the food.”

There was a pause, and Steve knew already that he’d have to prompt James for more. He had yet to come to a point where he’d ask what he needed to know freely. “Did you have a question about dinner?”

James looked around the room, as if seeking an escape. Then, finally, he spoke. “I don’t know how to behave…”

Of course. No one would ever have taught him what was expected of him during a noble dinner party. “You’re to stay by my side for the entire meal, unless I ask you to fetch me a drink. You’re not to speak. Eat slowly. Keep your eyes on the table. After dinner there will be music in the main hall. You may converse with other omegas, but keep your voice low.”

“What if…”

“What if what?” Steve bit his lip. He’d owned James for seven weeks now, and he was still having to pry every question, every piece of information out of him. But he maintained his patience. He believed in James, believed that he would come around in the end. And he reminded himself, as he waited for his answer, that he had no idea what kind of atrocities James had endured before he’d been bought by the Cortez Estate. 

“What if someone tries to…” James put a hand on his ribs, most likely an unconscious gesture, but it filled in the blanks.

“If anyone tries to mate with you, tell them you’re the personal omega of Steven Cortez,” he said simply. “These are well-mannered nobles. No one will give you any trouble.”

“Yes, sir.”

The tension lingered, and Steve was uncertain whether it was due to the dinner arrangements, or something else, but he also knew he’d pushed James enough for now. “Unpack our clothes, and put on your best tunic for dinner. The Baron will expect us to dress well.”

 

 

James hovered near Steve’s shoulder in the ball room, wishing the night was over already. Dinner had been fraught with problems – he’d watched Steve out of the corner of his eye to try and figure out which fork to use, he’d nearly choked on his soup, the taste far too rich for his tastes, and he’d been served a glass of wine. Wine! He’d never had wine in his life, had no idea how to drink it, and he’d left the glass untouched – though at the same time he’d been terrified that he’d been insulting their hosts with his refusal.

Steve hadn’t said a word to him, aside from a hasty ‘hold this’ with which he’d handed his glass to James while he examined a letter an Earl had wanted to show him. Though he wasn’t nobility, Steve was a guest of honor, and the Baroness had made a speech at the beginning of the meal, addressing a number of topics, but noting Steve’s attendance before the crowd, detailing his assistance to her the previous winter. The nobles had been courteous, displaying a polite interest in Steve’s affairs, while ignoring James completely.

And so it came as a total surprise when a slight young women sidled up to him and greeted him with a playful ‘good evening!’.

James looked around in surprise, even as he kept an eye on Steve. Should the man move, he had to follow, regardless of any conversation he might be having at the time. But the woman who had greeted him was an omega, he noticed immediately, seeing the dark blur of tattoos on her inner forearm. 

“Hello,” he replied, not at all sure how to talk to the omega of a noblemen. Besides which, why was she flitting about the room, instead of staying glued to her master’s side?

Steve moved off at that point, and James moved with him, feeling horribly awkward that he’d just shunned another omega, but feeling he had little choice… until he realised that the omega had followed him, looking not the slightest bit put out by his sudden movement.

“So you’re the house-mate of the famous Steven Cortez?” she said conspiratorially, and a shaft of pride made James correct her. 

“I’m his personal omega,” he said, aware of the edge to his voice, and wondering if he’d regret it. 

But the omega woman just looked impressed at his announcement. “Truly. You’re a lucky man.” And he was, James would have to admit, though he didn’t feel it just at the moment. Any omega who became someone’s personal companion was blessed by worldly standards. “I’m Tali,” the woman said, holding out her hand for James to shake… but as he did, he got a closer look at her tattoo… and dropped her hand in a panic. 

“Good god… you’re bonded.” He felt like he was standing in the presence of royalty all of a sudden, eyes fixed on her forearm, though he knew it was impolite. But she simply held out her arm for his appraisal. Around the clear lines of her brand there was a thin black circle, the tell-tale signature of a bonded omega. 

Once bonded to an alpha, an omega could never again be sold, would never face the prospect of being thrown out of her master’s estate, even if he should die. If he did, she would remain in her position, the most senior omega on the estate until her eventual death. It was the most coveted position any omega could aspire to… but it was also phenomenally rare. James didn’t know much about the bonding process, but the results were clear – the alpha lost all interest in other omegas, and the omega’s heats were said to be far milder than a normal omega’s. The bond was permanent, and a separation of any length for the couple was said to be extremely stressful. 

“My master is Baron Garrus Vakarian,” Tali said, nodding to a tall nobleman a short distance away. 

There was no point asking what he was like – the bonding spoke for itself. He had to be an admirable man, honorable, compassionate, or the bonding would never have taken place. And Tali must be an exceptional omega, James realised, in awe of the diminutive woman. He suddenly had a thousand question to ask about her life, but each and every one of them would be considered highly inappropriate. 

“The bonding is… a rare thing,” James said, hoping to draw more information out of her, but not able to ask directly. 

Tali grinned, keeping an eye on her master as they spoke. “It’s not quite so mystical as everyone thinks,” she said, an amused glint in her eye. “I have a kind, affectionate master. He has a cheerful omega. The rest takes care of itself.”

Despite her flippant dismissal of the relationship, James could tell by the way that her gaze continually wandered back to the Baron that she was utterly devoted to him… and he felt a wave of jealousy. As a young omega, sixteen and struggling to come to terms with his role in life, he’d often fantasized about becoming someone’s bonded omega. The love and affection, the security, the knowledge that he had reached that position because he had been the best omega he could possibly be, that he had pleased his master in a multitude of ways, had been a comforting dream that he’d held close at night, sleeping on a hard floor in the omega’s training school. 

But now, it was nothing more than a distant memory, or a fanciful delusion. The bonding process required a long period of intimate relations between the alpha and the omega. Most alphas simply didn’t stay with one omega for that long, choosing instead to mate with a number of house-mates or whores to satisfy their desires. And even if Steve did decide to keep him for long enough… James could barely manage to mate with the man, loathing his touch, the intimacy, the invasion of his body. That was hardly a recipe for a life-long bond, and a cold weight settled in his chest. No, he would never be a bonded omega. 

But his curiosity about the one standing before him remained undimmed. “How long did he have you before you bonded?” he asked, because Tali seemed open to discussing the relationship, and he felt a flush of relief when she blushed, her grin still in place. 

“I was his personal omega for five years before the first signs started showing,” she said, launching into a prolonged story of the fabled romance between a noble alpha and his coveted slave…

 

James seemed unusually distracted as they prepared for bed that night. Steve was tired, the banquet going on long into the night, and the pressure of being surrounded by so many people was draining. He stripped off his formal clothes and tossed them over the back of a chair, pulling on a pair of sleeping shorts and climbing into bed. James took a little longer, folding his clothes carefully and putting them away, seeming to be lost in thought. Steve was on the verge of asking him what was on his mind when he turned around… and froze. He glanced about the room in confusion. 

“Where am I to sleep?” he asked quietly.

Steve gestured to the other side of the side bed. “Beside me.” Though personal omegas didn’t generally share their master’s beds, it was not uncommon for visitors to be expected to share quarters, both due to limitations in space, and the ready convenience of having one’s omega nearby, should the master feel… frisky.

But they’d hit yet another road block in James’s expectations, Steve realised, as the man cursed beneath his breath and backed away. “I can’t… It’s not proper,” he protested. “I could… I could sleep on the floor…”

Despite the relatively short period of time they’d been together, Steve couldn’t help but be disappointed at the lack of trust he’d managed to earn. But you couldn’t force someone to trust you, he reminded himself. And before coming to the Cortez estate, James had been living in a world where there was a vast divide between master and slave. “Among nobility, this arrangement is customary,” Steve said patiently, wanting to explain more, but simply too tired. He wanted to sleep, not to spend long minutes soothing a nervous omega. 

But to his surprise, James simply climbed into bed beside him with no further objection. 

“We’ve been invited to visit a neighbouring estate in the morning,” he remembered to tell his omega, after dousing the lamp and before he drifted off to sleep. “Baron Garrus Vakarian has offered us a tour of his vineyards.”

Was it his imagination, or did James suddenly stiffen? There was no reason for it – he couldn’t have heard of the baron already. He was a minor noble, of no great importance… or was it simply the thought of another day surrounded by nobles that had him tensing? It was bound to be stressful, Steve thought, feeling sorry for the omega… but on the other hand, perhaps he’d find it easier to settle into the estate back home after gaining a wider view of the world. If he was struggling with crowds and nobility and dinner parties, then perhaps a life of stable chores and relative peace would start to appeal to him. With that hopeful thought in mind, Steve closed his eyes, and drifted off to sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the lovely, lovely people who commented and gave me kudos. It's appreciated very, very much.

James followed Tali across the wide lawn, both omegas trailing several steps behind their masters. They’d spent the morning walking up and down the rows of grapes, and then their masters had tasted some of the wine from last year’s harvest. Steve had been impressed, and had bought a case on the spot. An eager young omega had hurried along to take it back to Steve’s carriage, blushing as he passed Tali. 

“You’re quite the celebrity here,” James murmured, careful to keep his voice low, so as to avoid disturbing his master’s conversation.

“Kenneth is new. All the other omegas have gotten used to me and Garrus. He’s being considered as a breeding omega, and I think he’s nervous that I won’t like him.”

“You’re not used for breeding?” The idea shocked him. As Master of the House, Garrus had primary rights to any breeding omega, but if his bonded omega wasn’t used for breeding, then the first alpha would step into the breeding role. It wasn’t unheard of, but it was still rather unusual.

“No. Garrus is too worried about something happening to me during the birth. I don’t know why. I’ve had five children already, and I survived perfectly well. But still… Kenneth was expensive, from very good bloodlines. And he was certified, even though he was a virgin. He’s pretty much guaranteed to have healthy children, so I can understand why he’s keen to fit in here.”

“Certified?” That was a word James had never heard before. “What does that mean?”

Tali looked surprised, but then shrugged. “Maybe they use a different word for it in Spain.” He’d shared his origins with her, after she’d questioned his accent. “It’s when the doctor examines you before you’re sold, to make sure you’re healthy.”

James’s look must have expressed his confusion, as well as his sudden alarm, despite his efforts to maintain a bland, neutral expression. 

“…were you not examined?” Tali asked cautiously, as if aware that she’d made a social faux pas. Omegas were generally careful about discussing their own sale and history, but as the personal omega of a gentleman, perhaps she had simply assumed he was from good bloodlines. 

“No,” James bit out. “Tell me… what does the certification mean?”

“It’s a document that guarantees an omega is free from injuries and is capable of mating properly.” She was blushing now, avoiding his gaze out of embarrassment. Such things were not usually discussed. “Certification can double an omega’s price, if they’re from good breeding stock.”

Son of a bitch… So many things suddenly made sense. The beta sent to sell James all those months ago had never had him examined, hadn’t had him certified… which explained why he’d struggled to raise a decent price for him. The system in Spain might be different, but that was no excuse… James suddenly felt sick. He’d been sold into a life of misery and depravity because his master had sent an incompetent servant to secure his sale. He had four tattoos staining his body instead of two because a lazy servant hadn’t bothered to find out the correct procedure at the markets.

“Are you alright?” Tali asked suddenly, turning to him with a worried look. She reached out and put a hand on his forehead. “You look pale.” 

“I’m fine.” James realised they were lagging behind their masters, and hurried to catch up, but in his haste, he tripped on an uneven patch of ground and stumbled.

Tali dashed forward and grabbed his arm, helping to right him, and he was so off balance, both physically and mentally, that he let her support him for a moment, her arm strong and firm beneath his hand-

“Get away from her!” Garrus’s sharp reprimand had James jumping back in alarm, not at all sure what he’d done to earn such wrath-

Holy hell… Garrus’s eyes had flashed to golden, and James backed away, head down, his training screaming in his head to submit, to obey, and for god’s sake, to not provoke this bonded alpha in any way whatsoever. He’d put his hand on the alpha’s omega, he realised, far too late to correct his mistake. Never mind that he was another omega – bonded alphas were notoriously possessive, and if the stories were true, then they were more than willing to fight, main, or even kill anyone who got between them and their omega. 

Garrus stepped right up close to James, and he could feel the man staring down at him, as if daring him to even glance up. He stood still, quiet, staring at the ground, desperate to know where Steve was and what he thought of this sudden turn of events. But regardless of the outcome, he suddenly realised, Steve couldn’t help him. He had touched the bonded omega of a noble, and Steve was neither a noble, nor bonded to him, so his only course of action was to allow Garrus to serve whatever punishment he saw fit. 

He heard Tali move, though she said nothing, and he wondered what she was doing, whether she was there to help, or to further exacerbate the situation.

And then Garrus leaned down, so his mouth was right beside James’s ear. “No one touches my omega,” he said in a low growl. “You understand that?”

“Yes, sir,” James agreed immediately. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“Touch her again, and I’ll have you beaten to within an inch of your life.”

“Yes, sir.”

A moment more passed in tense silence… and then Garrus stepped away. Out of the corner of his eye, James saw him put an arm around Tali and lead her away, guiding her to walk beside him, and he and Steve resumed their slow stroll around the estate. James took up his position behind them once more, feeling far more alone than he had only a minute or two before.

 

 

Two hours later, James climbed out of the master’s carriage, following the man blindly. He’d spent the last two hours brooding over the implications of what Tali had told him. Ever since he had been sold, he’d been convinced there was something wrong with him, something that the alphas could see that made him undesirable, unworthy. And he’d wracked his brain and examined every minor detail of his behaviour to try and figure out what it was. 

And now he’d found the answer… but it was both better, and worse than he’d expected. The simple answer was there was nothing wrong with him. It was a relief, and it eased some of his constant tension, the expectation that Steve would notice whatever it was that was defective in him and cast him out. 

But it was also a terrible blow to realise that he was a helpless victim of poor decisions, a victim of fate, if he wanted to be fatalistic about it. And how the hell was he supposed to make sense of a world where random chance could cast such a hideous lot? His training had taught him the rules of cause and effect – be an obedient, diligent omega, and you’ll have a place in a fine household. Be rude or disobedient, and you’ll end up in a whore house. 

But the truth was far more complicated, and far less controllable. He’d done everything right – everything he had control over, anyway – and he’d still nearly ended up a whore to a businessman. Not a noble, not even a gentleman, but an alpha who would have allowed his workers to use him however they wished, whenever they wished. 

And if there was nothing wrong with him, he realised, then there was nothing he could fix, no imperfection he could work on to improve himself… and no way to prevent such a turn of chance sending him under again.

He felt almost numb, and he actually ran into the back of his master when he stopped suddenly.

Steve turned to him with a concerned frown, and James was so on edge at the moment that he had to look away, had to avoid those eyes that seemed more and more to look straight through him. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

Steve seemed preoccupied by his own worries, and he glanced around, then spotted a sign hanging above a store. “Come here,” he ordered sharply, and James hurried after him. “Wait here,” Steve said at the door, and then he disappeared inside, leaving James standing on the street in confusion. He pressed his back against the wall and watched the street, not sure if anyone was going to try to cause trouble for him, and equally unsure what to do about it if they did. As Steve’s property, he had only to state his branded owner to quell any doubts about why he was here… but not every alpha took an omega’s word at face value. And some took more liberties than was polite…

But James didn’t have long to worry about his wellbeing. Only a minute or two later, a troop of guards came marching down the street – nothing remarkable about that by itself – but they were dragging a shackled omega along behind them. Barely clothed, the woman had a dozen or more tattoos all over her body, her head shaved, her body bruised and beaten. But rather than looking the downtrodden slave, she seemed to have all the fire of a spirited warrior. The guards came to a halt and she stumbled as they yanked on her chains… and then straightened, looking her captors straight in the eye.

They ignored her, no doubt used to the taunts of prisoners, and well past the need to prove their dominance. She was in chains, after all. What else was there to prove?

But the woman caught James staring, and turned to him with a sardonically raised eyebrow. “Like what you see?” she asked, the last question in the world James would have expected. 

“No,” he said flatly. “Can’t say I much care for seeing omegas in chains.” It wasn’t what she had meant, but since the revelation a few hours ago about his own past, he was suddenly re-evaluating a lot of the things he’d believed in. Previously, he’d thought that an omega who disobeyed his master deserved whatever punishment he got. Now, though, he was coming to realise that the omega’s actions – and certainly their situation – weren’t necessarily their own fault.

“What’s your station?” One of the guards had noticed his attention and strode over, irritated and impatient. No doubt he’d had enough of omegas turning stray today. 

“I’m the personal omega of Steven Cortez,” James answered quickly, tugging his shirt down over his shoulder to display his brand. The guard examined it briefly, then made a grunt of disinterest and wandered off. 

“Personal omega,” the prisoner drawled. “Lucky you.”

It was luck, pure and simple. “What’s your name?” he asked, because asking her station was a waste of time. She was no longer owned by anyone, on her way to the gallows if the guard was anything to judge by. 

“Jack”, the woman said. “Not that anyone bothers calling me that any more. I’m to be hung,” she added, looking strangely relieved about the prospect. 

“What for?” Normally he wouldn’t have asked, but her almost cheerful demeanor had him off balance – not for the first time today.

“I’ve been charged with murdering my master.”

Despite his expectation that she’d done something bad, that was far worse that he’d imagined, and he gasped involuntarily. But Jack merely waved his concern away. “Oh, I didn’t kill him,” she said flippantly. “He was so old he had one foot in the grave already. Insisted on mating me and had a heart attack halfway through. So they blamed me, of course. Go figure.”

“You don’t seem particularly bothered by the fact that they’re going to kill you.” The words were spoken in an almost reverent whisper. 

And Jack looked up at him, the cynical frown suddenly melting away. “You can see how many masters I’ve had,” she said, all hint of her previous aggression gone, leaving her looking almost peaceful. “So you can imagine the kind of life I’ve led. Death would be a relief, a way out of this hell.” Then her face darkened once again. “I doubt you can imagine how I feel.”

But he could, and perhaps something in his face said so, because that frown of hers faded again. “I’ve been somewhere not too distant from where you are,” he said carefully. “Very nearly ended up in the same place.” Because if he’d had any other master than Steve, there was every possibility he would have ended up killing them. And he, too, would have seen death as a way out.

“Then I’ll wait for you on the other side,” Jack said, as the guards prepared to move off again. “I bet you’ll have some great stories to tell.”

And then she was gone, marching off down the road like she was about to attend a party, rather than her own funeral, and James felt tears stinging his eyes, his hands shaking, his throat tight.

Steve returned a few minutes later, and then they were back in their carriage, lulled by the slow rocking of the vehicle as they returned to the Baron’s estate. They had one more night here before they were due to head home, and James couldn’t wait to return. His world had been turned upside down in a few short hours, his perspective on reality shifted in a way that could not be undone… and he longed for the quiet peace of last year’s hay and the huffing snorts of the horses in the stable. 

 

 

Steve watched James preparing his tea, wondering how to broach the topic of what was bothering his omega. He suspected he knew – he’d been tense and distracted ever since Baron Vakarian had threatened him for touching Tali. Perhaps he was upset that Steve hadn’t stepped in to protect him. And he wanted to explain why he couldn’t, why doing so would have broken dozens of social conventions… but every time he thought to put the issue into words, he thought how weak an argument it would sound to James.

But the man was clearly struggling. So far he’d almost poured tea into the sugar bowl, dropped the spoon three times and spilled milk on the tray. But when he picked up a cup and saucer, only to drop them on the floor, shattering them into pieces, Steve knew he had to step in. 

James closed his eyes and took a deep breath, no doubt fighting for calm, but Steve had seen his hands shaking and knew that he was right on the edge of his control.

“James,” he said softly, stepping over to him. “It’s okay.” He took James’s hands and held them still, when he would have moved to clean up the mess. “Come and sit down.”

“No, I… I have to clean this up,” he protested weakly, staring at the broken cup on horror.

“It’s okay. Nobody’s going to get angry about a cup.”

“But I should be…” The sentence was broken off sharply. “Please,” he whispered. “I need to clean it up.”

Steve lifted James’s hands and pressed a soft kiss to each one. “Okay,” he agreed. “But then I want you to come and sit down. I need to talk to you.”

James nodded, his face colouring, and Steve retreated to the lounge. A few minutes later, James joined him, handing him a cup of tea, then sitting stiffly on the opposite seat.

“You’re upset about what happened today, aren’t you?”

James opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again. Speaking against an alpha was not generally permitted, but Steve could see the almost desperate confusion in his eyes. “When Baron Vakarian threatened you?”

James’s eyes shot up, meeting his momentarily. “No,” he denied swiftly. “It’s… that was… I touched his omega. He was justified in his threats.”

“I thought maybe you’d been hoping I would have protected you.”

James almost rolled his eyes. “He’s a Baron,” he said, as if it explained everything. And in a lot of ways, it did. “It’s fine. I should have been more careful in the first place.”

“But something is bothering you,” Steve pressed, hoping he’d earned a small measure of trust. 

James fell silent, and Steve waited, not holding much hope that he’d explain himself-

“I was never certified,” James blurted out. And the change of topic was so sudden that Steve was momentarily lost. 

“I know,” he said. “When I bought you, you were-“

“No,” James interrupted, and it was a clear indicator of just how rattled he was. He never interrupted Steve, was always careful to be rigorously polite and attentive. “I mean when I was sold the first time. After the Duke kicked me out- I mean… sorry. After he decided to sell me. I should have been certified. But I wasn’t.” As he spoke, James was becoming more and more agitated, his hands clenching into fists, his lip wavering just a fraction. “I was sold to a merchant when I should have been sold to a noble estate, because the beta who worked for the Duke didn’t get me certified.”

Holy fucking hell… Well, if that didn’t explain a lot. Steve sat in stunned silence as the full implications of the revelation hit home. He had no idea why this was coming out now – maybe it was the visit to a Baron’s house that had stirred up his anger. Or maybe the threat from Garrus has simply unnerved him enough to-

“I thought it was my fault,” James murmured, his voice cracking. “But it was his fault. And they turned me into a whore because of someone else’s mistake.”

Good god, how was he supposed to fix this one? He’d once imagined the conversations he’d like to have with James, hearing about his past, coaxing him to explain how he’d ended up the property of Hector Briggs, when he’d been a breeding omega… but he’d never imagined the conversation would go anything like this.

“You’re not a whore,” Steve said vehemently, his voice low and steady. “You’re a personal omega in a gentleman’s house.”

“By pure chance,” James bit back. “God, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be saying this… I’m sorry.” He slumped in his seat, head down, eyes closed, struggling to regain control of himself. “I’m not a very good omega.”

“You’re a perfectly good omega.” In all his fantasies about how he would help James recover from his past, Steve had failed to take into account one simple thing, one emotion that humans felt, that no other animal in the world understood. Humans were capable of feeling shame. James seemed to feel it in spades. And unfortunately, it was one of the things that a blasé platitude wasn’t going to fix. He could convince James of all sorts of things, that he was gentle, patient, compassionate – he’d witnessed enough of his interactions with the horses to know that all that was true, and plenty more. But a good omega? He’d failed to fall pregnant, had been sold well below his station and now carried a wealth of guilt and anxiety – all things that a ‘good’ omega didn’t do. What was he supposed to say? He shifted over to sit beside the man. Took his hand.

“I’m glad I bought you, James,” he said, meaning every word. “I’ve never regretted it, not for one moment.”

“I hit your cousin,” James reminded him blackly, just one more thing that a ‘good’ omega would never do. And the fact that he had deserved it was far from the point.

“My cousin isn’t a very good alpha,” Steve said, with just a hint of wry humor, and James let out the briefest snort of a laugh before yanking back on his self-control. “And I still don’t regret buying you.”

He had been stroking his thumb back and forth over James’s hand, and now the omega seemed to notice, tightening his fingers over Steve’s just the slightest fraction. And without really meaning to, the stroke changed, from one of sympathetic comfort, to a slower, more sensual caress. He watched as James stared at their hands… and then turned his gaze to look up at him, the first time he had done so without being instructed. And then James’s gaze dropped to Steve’s mouth. Back up to his eyes. Back down to his mouth.

And then James leaned forward, and their lips met.


	10. Chapter 10

James nibbled on Steve’s lips, finally getting the hang of this kissing thing. It wasn’t all about having someone’s tongue shoved into your mouth. He could tease Steve’s lips, put his teeth to very gentle use, and when Steve sucked on his lower lip, he discovered that he actually kind of liked that. 

They were both naked in bed as Steve pressed their bodies together, his large erection bumping against James’s thigh in a way that had him instinctively wanting to roll over and let himself be mounted… but he’d learned that Steve liked to take things a lot slower than his other masters had. Even though he was hard and his breathing quick and uneven, he might not want to begin the mating for another ten minutes or so.

And the other thing he’d learned? Steve wanted to touch him simply because he liked to be touched himself. Perhaps the way he put his hands all over James wasn’t a need to dominate and claim, but an invitation to do likewise in return? And James was finding that the more he did so, the less time Steve felt he needed to spend touching James. His nipples were particularly sensitive and James had rubbed and pinched them, then decided to try licking them, as Steve had done to him once. And from the way Steve had moaned and arched his body, he’d liked it. Maybe he was finally getting the hang of this mating thing, learning to be a better omega… and reducing the likelihood that he would be sold again soon.

He reached down and took Steve’s cock in his hand, part of him shocked at his own audacity in touching his master without invitation, but that same cock was thrust into his hand in response, throbbing in time with his master’s heart beat, another moan drawn from his lips as his head fell back and his eyes closed. James stroked the hard length rhythmically, watching the bead of moisture gather at the tip. 

It had been seven weeks now that he’d belonged to Steve. Four weeks since he’d last been mated, his ribs finally healing and the bruises fading, and while he’d relished the freedom from his duties in the bedroom, he’d also panicked every time Steve had called on one of the house-mates, convinced that he was about to demote James and choose someone else to be his personal omega.

And now that he was back in bed with his master, weeks of reflection giving him both perspective and courage, he was a little startled to discover that it really wasn’t so bad. There had been a few brief interludes in the meantime, kissing and Steve’s habit of running a hand over James’s shoulders, and even when he was frustrated or annoyed, Steve had always been calm and controlled, never a hint of the wild anger that had been inflicted on him so often in the past. He was a most unusual alpha, an entirely unexpected addition to James’s chaotic life… and some thread of that peace and calm had begun seeping into James. 

He reached up to kiss his master again, pulling back to see those dark eyes open and watching him with pleased anticipation… and then Steve’s hand stroked downwards to wrap around his cock…

 

 

Steve froze as his hand made contact with his omega’s genitals. The flesh under his hand was limp, despite… well, despite _everything_. James had initiated this round of mating, had encouraged Steve to strip his clothes off, had taken to kissing like a duck to water, after an admittedly shaky start, and he’d finally embraced the concept of foreplay, his hands everywhere, his mouth put to good use. Steve knew he was capable of getting hard – he had yet to work out whether he could ever lubricate himself again, but every time the knot was lodged in his pocket, he would harden and climax, and Steve had hoped it was only a matter of time before his body healed enough to allow him to harden at will…

But in the hazy blur of desire, another thought had suddenly occurred to him, one that would not be silenced until it was dealt with. And, oblivious to the consequences of what he was about to ask, Steve blurted out the question without thinking. “Why don’t you ever get hard?” He regretted the words the instant he’d said them, knowing that if there was actually something wrong with James’s body, then he’d just embarrassed the living daylights out of him… but James’s expression wasn’t one of embarrassment or shame. It was a shocked kind of fear. “I’m not angry or upset about it,” Steve said hastily. He gave a few more strokes, feeling the organ harden in his hand. “I just… I don’t understand why you don’t.” 

No response. Shit, when would he learn to keep his mouth shut? James had just had a very stressful day, being threatened by an alpha, getting a shock about his own past, and now Steve was going to have a go at him? How stupid was he? 

He looked down to confirm what he could feel, James losing his erection again almost as soon as the stimulation stopped. Steve looked up again, reading the fear in his eyes, and asked the question that had originally occurred to him, needing to know the answer, however devastating it might be. “Do you… Do you enjoy mating?”

James looked utterly shocked. He opened his mouth to reply… closed it again, and then his eyes were everywhere but on Steve’s. His breathing had quickened, but not from arousal, and Steve remembered a very similar response the first time they had done this, no erection, no lubrication, body tense and breathing fast… He’d taken it as signs of a willing omega with a damaged body, but he felt a cold lump of dread settle in his gut as he suddenly diagnosed the symptoms as something entirely different.

“You don’t, do you. You don’t like this.” James swallowed hard. Steve let go of him and pulled back. “James?”

“No, sir.” The words were so quiet he almost missed them.

“But you climax. Every time, when I’ve knotted you, you climax.”

James shrugged. “It just happens. Your knot presses on… something inside me, and it happens.”

“You mean you can’t control it?”

James shook his head. And oh god, this was worse than he’d thought. That meant that every other omega he’d mated with, the ones he’d thought were enjoying it because they’d climaxed, may well have hated it as much as James apparently did.

“Is it painful for you?”

“No. Not with you.”

“But you don’t enjoy it?”

James was getting distressed now, hands clenching the sheets, body fidgeting, expression helpless.

“I told you I wasn’t a very good omega,” he said in a strangled voice. “You can still mate with me. You use the oil, and that’s… that makes it not hurt. You can-“

“No!” James looked up at him in shock, and Steve forced himself to rein in his emotions. “No,” he repeated, more gently. “Not if you don’t like it.” There were a thousand questions he wanted to ask, whether James had always disliked mating, or if it was a result of his more recent owners. Did he like the kissing? Did he like Steve at all? Did he regret being bought by the Cortez Estate? But it was far too much pressure, delving into a topic that was never discussed between alphas and omegas. In all levels of society, an alpha made a demand, and an omega worked to fulfill it, no matter how difficult, no matter how disgusting. And Steve had never really questioned the natural order of things, though he’d always taken pains to treat his omegas with respect and compassion. But an omega that disliked mating? That’s all they were kept for, in the end, the menial tasks they attended to a consequence of mouths to feed and idle hands – no one could mate 24 hours a day, after all.

Steve’s erection was waning, and he knew he’d be feeling an ache in his balls for hours, but he just couldn’t bring himself to mount James now, not after his pained admission. He pulled back, rolled out of bed and found his pants.

“You’re not going to mate with me?” If anything, James sounded more scared now than he had when he’d told Steve about not being certified. 

“No,” Steve said, his own thoughts and emotions a riot of confusion and self-reproach. “Get dressed. We have a dinner to attend.”

Face pale, James got up and began gathering his clothes. Steve desperately wanted to comfort him, explain, soothe, reassure. But he hadn’t a clue what to say. And no idea what to do with an omega that he couldn’t bring himself to mate with.

 

As with the night before, James was served a glass of wine with dinner. He’d never tasted it before – in fact, his only experience with alcohol was drinking a weak ale in the Duke’s estate, bitter stuff that had been mostly water and next to impossible to get drunk on, but he knew the effects of alcohol, having seen countless alphas inebriated on the stuff. And he’d heard it took the edge off stress, lowered inhibitions, made life seem less awful. 

And life was looking pretty awful right now. He’d been rejected from the one thing he was kept for, the thing he’d worked hard to learn, to get better at, so that his master would keep him and he wouldn’t have to go back to being a whore for wandering alphas. And he was dreadful at it, so much so that his master had lost his erection and hadn’t even bothered finishing the mating.

He was going to be sold. Because he couldn’t get hard. If he’d been able to will an erection into existence, his master would never have asked that confounded question, would never have doubted his abilities in bed. He didn’t even know why he’d been brought down to dinner. The master could have left him in the room, or even arranged for him to be sold immediately. 

He was an omega who couldn’t mate.

He took hold of the glass of wine and downed some of the liquid, hoping it would help the world fade away, at least for a little while.

 

Steve steadied James’s arm as they climbed the stairs, some two hours later. He’d seen him sipping the wine, too caught up in his own riotous thoughts to notice how much of it James was drinking. But by the end of the meal, his omega had been swaying in his seat, eyes drooping, vision fuzzy, and Steve cursed himself for not paying more attention. He’d been called up to speak to the Baroness, to accept a gift of a silver bowl, delicately engraved by a master craftsman as reward to his service to her, and he’d left James sitting by the wall with firm instructions not to go anywhere. He’d returned as soon as he’d been able, finding the omega just where he’d left him, much to his relief, and he’d immediately excused himself from the dining room, guiding the inebriated man back to their chamber.

He hastily set the bowl on the table and guided James to the bed, coaxing him to sit down. He did so, landing heavily, and then Steve knelt to remove his boots. He tugged the man’s shirt over his head, but didn’t even bother trying to remove his pants. He could sleep with them on.

“Lie down,” he said firmly, pressing James’s shoulders back, and mistaking his intentions, James turned over onto his front and spread his legs. Steve closed his eyes and took a deep breath, fighting for patience, still battling the heavy regret and confusion from earlier. “No, that’s not what I want,” he told the man, coaxing his legs closed again. 

“I wanted you to like me,” James said, his voice slurred and his words muffled into the pillow. “I can be a good omega.”

“I know,” Steve agreed. “You are a good omega.”

James closed his eyes, his face lax, then he said something incomprehensible that sounded vaguely like Spanish.

“It’s okay, James,” Steve told him softly, putting a hand on his shoulder, not sure if he even liked to be touched at all, but unable to help himself. “Go to sleep. We’ll sort it out in the morning.”

James made a satisfied sort of a moan, then huffed out a small sigh, falling quickly into sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

It took James three weeks to figure out that Steve wasn’t going to mate with him. He’d woken after that disastrous night of bad news and getting drunk, thankfully without any ill effects from the wine, but the uneasiness of being kicked out of his master’s bed hadn’t decreased at all.

The carriage ride back to the estate had been awkward, James wanting to ask a thousand questions, offer himself up to his master in a hundred different ways, but a cold sense of despair had stopped him. He was an omega who wasn’t able to mate. He was worthless, and Steve would be lucky to fetch even twenty francs for him at market.

But on their arrival at home, nothing had been said, and James had returned to his usual duties, waiting for the call that would take him to market to be sold to the whore house.

Three days later, he’d given up waiting to be sold, and was waiting to be told that he was now a house-mate, Steve having chosen a new omega to be his personal companion.

And then he’d waited for Steve to call on him, perhaps to punish him for his inadequacies, or mate him by force, to remind him what his place in the world was.

But three weeks later, there was only one conclusion he could reach, illogical as it was. Steve was not going to sell him. He was not going to be demoted. And he was not going to be mated. The three things seemed mutually exclusive – why would an alpha keep an omega they didn’t want to mate? But what other conclusion could he reach?

So it came as quite a shock, as the fourth week drew to a close, that Steve appeared in the omegas’ quarters one night, ordering James’s presence in his bed chamber. James didn’t know whether to feel relieved, ashamed or simply cheated as he stood up, abandoning the last of his evening meal, and followed his master out of the room, conscious of the eyes of every other omega following him with frank curiosity.

In Steve’s bedroom, he stood awkwardly, not at all sure what was expected of him.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to mate you,” Steve said, after he’d closed the door. And ironically, that confirmed James’s worst worry – that his master no longer saw him as fit for any kind of duty. So he stood, tense and confused, waiting.

Steve took a deep breath, sighed, paced across the room. “My father’s started asking questions about why I’m not mating you. I’ve put him off with excuses about your injuries for as long as possible, but that’s not going to wash any more.”

So was he to be mated, or not? James was astonished to feel a twinge of sensation in his groin – not enough to be called arousal, but in an odd sort of way, he missed the quiet stillness of lying in bed with Steve after they’d both come, knowing he’d completed his duty and knowing that nothing more would be demanded of him for a day or two at least. And he’d also begun to experience a gnawing curiosity about the last time they had been in bed together. Would it have been better? He’d liked the kissing, had found the idea of touching Steve to be less and less unpleasant. What if they had continued? What if Steve had kept stroking his cock, and he’d begun to get wet-

“I just need you to stay here tonight, so everyone will think we’ve mated,” Steve broke into his thoughts. “You can sleep in my bed, if you want to, or on the floor, if you’re more comfortable with that.”

What a choice. He would sleep on the floor, not because of any consideration for his own comfort, but because how could he choose anything else? He’d slept with Steve in the Baron’s house because it had been expected of both of them, but here in his own house? Even when they had mated, Steve had never asked him to stay the night, never invited him to sleep in his bed. 

“If you want to mate with me, that’s fine,” James said, feeling a desperate sort of hope that he could convince his master he was still useful for something.

But Steve shook his head. “No.”

And then there was the other option. “If you wish to sell me-“

“I’m not going to sell you,” Steve snapped harshly, and James clapped his jaw shut. His master had never spoken to him in so sharp a tone before, and James resorted to the ingrained behaviour of any omega when faced with an angry master. Stand still and shut up. “Do you want the bed or the floor?”

“The floor,” James replied quickly, not wanting to test his master’s patience any more. 

“Fine.” Steve handed him a blanket and a pillow, then stripped off his clothes and climbed into bed. James set about making up a makeshift bed on the floor then hastily lay down. “Okay?” Steve asked him.

“Fine,” James tossed back the word Steve had fired at him just moments ago. And then the lamp was extinguished, and darkness filled the room.

 

Summer slowly crept into autumn, and then winter. The vegetables were harvested and stored, the sheep were shorn, the milking cow dried up and extra blankets were brought out for the omegas. Wood was stacked in the wood sheds, to be carried in wheelbarrows to the houses each day and a few of the wethers were slaughtered, the lamb hung to be eaten throughout the winter. The chickens were moved into the barn and eggs that had been sealed and stored in the summer were brought out to supplement the winter rations. 

Once or twice a week, Steve called upon James, taking him to his room for an hour, or a night, to keep up the pretence of their matings, and for some strange reason, despite his lack of interest in James, he was no longer making use of any of the house-mates. 

The ruse seemed to be working, with James hearing no gossip from the omegas about his relationship with Steve, and Frank making no comment about the useless omega on the estate. 

But it was a fragile equilibrium, one that could not possible last forever… and James had been anticipating the change that was to come, knowing that the inevitable could not be put off forever, even as he wondered what on earth he was to do about the impending deadline on his amicable life.

And so, in the dead of winter, when there was snow on the ground and getting out of bed in the morning was a tiresome juggling act of leaping out of bed and throwing on clothes before the air chilled you to the bone, James woke one morning with a raging erection.

“Oh, god, no…”

Four of the omegas had gone through their heat in the last six months, and Steve had serviced each of them, locking themselves in the mating room for a day, the moans and thumps keeping the omegas awake, several of them relieving themselves in their own bunks as the continuous sounds of sex left them aroused and restless. James had felt no such need, consumed by self-loathing and an irrational jealousy, consoling himself that at least the omegas hadn’t been taken to Steve’s bedroom. As far as he knew, he was the only omega to ever have had that privilege, though it provided pale comfort when he was lying awake, listening to his master fucking the brains out of one of the house-mates.

But now his own heat had hit. It was three weeks earlier than he’d anticipated, having counted the year from the end of his miscarriage, rather than from the date of his last heat. He knew he should tell Steve, or rather, have one of the betas tell Steve - an omega on heat wandering the estate was a recipe for disaster. But another part of him wanted to curl up in a corner and hide in shame. It had been six months since Steve had even tried to mate with him. Six months since he had summarily been rejected as a bedroom companion, silently declared as a useless omega, unable to satisfy his master. His pride demanded to know why the hell he should call upon the very man who had rejected him to see him through the heat now? In all likelihood, Steve would refuse to mate him, though James had no idea who would do so in his place. Frank was the only other alpha on the estate, and he’d made no secret of the fact that he was past the age where a heat-mating appealed to him. 

Fuck. What was he supposed to do? According to his training, going through a heat without being mated was intensely painful. No omega he’d ever heard of had tried it – not that they’d been given the choice – but it seemed a fitting punishment, somehow, his own body wrecking havoc upon him because he had failed to please his master. 

James briefly considered fleeing to the far side of the paddocks. In the winter the sheep were kept in the barn, and no one would be likely to venture out that far to look for him. His screams of pain would go unheeded and he could see the heat out in solitude.

But even as the plan formed in his mind, it was rejected. He would freeze to death, and as much as he hated himself and his life, he found that he lacked the courage to seek death. He was a coward, as well as a failure in bed… and so he crawled out of bed, his hand already stealing downwards into his pants to relieve the ache between his legs, and locked himself in the mating room. It would be hours before anyone discovered him, time enough for the heat to hit full force and his body to seize with pain… and then the master could do as he would – mate him, or let him endure the pain. It would no longer be James’s decision, and the abdication of responsibility was startlingly liberating. 

 

Steve was drafting a letter to the local Baron regarding the state of the road into town when a sharp knock at his door demanded his attention.

“Come in,” he called, mind still on the most appropriate way to phrase his request. Nobility were notoriously haughty, and any supplication had to be-

“Sir, we need your help,” Carolyn blurted as she burst into the room, face red, eyes wide in alarm. “Immediately.”

“What’s the problem?” He was on his feet in an instant. Had a fire gotten out of control, or a servant fallen ill-

“It’s James. He’s in heat.”

The news had the effect of freezing Steve in place, and good god, he should have seen this coming. He’d asked the omega when his last heat had been not long after he’d arrived at the estate, but had neglected to make a note of it. With every other omega, he had their scheduled heat recorded, and if he wasn’t available, the betas were under standing instructions to request an alpha from the nearest estate to assist. 

But fucking hell… he’d gone to great pains to avoid mating with James for the last six months, still unable to resolve the uneasy guilt over mating a man who clearly loathed the experience, and he’d gone even further, refusing to mate any omega who wasn’t in heat – and even then, it had only been to prevent the pain that accompanied their yearly cycle. 

Fuck.

“Bring him to my bedroom,” he instructed, even as his mind raced. Could he really mate with James now? An hour or two after the heat started, he would be begging for it, but did that make it okay, considering the way he’d shied away from Steve before? And would he need a supply of oil, he wondered, or would James’s body finally provide it’s own lubrication-

“I’m afraid that’s not possible, sir,” Carolyn said. “He’s… in significant pain.”

Steve gaped at her. He what? The pain didn’t hit until two or three hours into the heat – he glanced at the clock. Nine in the morning. The omegas generally got up at six, which meant James had chosen to hide the heat from him for this long, had chosen to avoid a mating rather than ask for assistance… Oh fuck, he felt sick. For an omega to choose the heat-pain over the most gentle of matings… fucking hell…

“Where is he?” Steve’s voice was as unsteady as his legs, and it was only by sheer force of will that he got his body to follow Carolyn out the door. 

“In the mating room,” she replied succinctly, leading the way at a fast trot.

James was in trouble, Steve knew, as he entered the mating room. The omega was lying still, but every now and then he’d convulse, taking a gasping breath, his eyes rolled back in his head, his limbs flopping uselessly by his sides. And the scent of him hit Steve like a stampede, a wave of pheromones crying out for the omega to be mated. He felt his cock swell in his pants, punching a tent out the front like the thing was made of steel. Fucking hell…

Steve clung to sanity by sheer force of will. Part of him longed to simply rip his pants off and mount this warm body, burying himself deep, finding such sweet completion in slick, warm flesh…

But not here, another part of his mind insisted. James should be in his bedroom, lying on his bed, not on this lumpy pile of wool and straw in an impersonal room.

“Help me get him to the main house,” he ordered, lifting one of James’s arms. He was heavy, his entire body thick with muscle, and it took two of the betas on his opposite side to get him upright. The few hundred yards to the main house were pure torture, and Steve was aware that his hormones would be in full swing by now. His eyes would be golden, and the only reason he wasn’t seeing the betas as a threat to be beaten to death was because they were temporarily assisting with his plan to mate the hell out of this omega. He wanted his cock buried inside that tight ass, his knot swelling to lock them together. He wanted to watch his omega come over and over again, hear him cry out in pleasure, see jets of white seed come pouring out of him.

“On the bed,” he snapped out, as they finally reached his bed chamber. The betas struggled to get James to the bed, huffing and panting, and then Steve helped them lay him down carefully, still fully clothed, occasional moans drawn from his throat as his body twitched. God, the pain he must be feeling…

“Now get out,” he snarled, turning on the betas with his teeth bared. They both bolted, the last one slamming the door behind himself. 

Steve turned to James with predatory intent. Foolish omega… He stripped off his clothes, shirt, boots, pants, undergarments. Then he began stripping James. Foolish omega. What the hell did he think he’d accomplish? Steve would have found him anywhere, would have smelt his personal omega calling to be mated from a mile away. He tugged the omega’s shirt off as gently as his convulsing body would allow, then opened his pants. James didn’t want this, a small, quiet part of Steve’s mind informed him, but a much louder part replied that there was no alternative. The omega’s body needed to be mated to assuage the pain. And the pain was completely unacceptable. 

He tugged James’s pants down his legs, eyes fixed on that small erection standing up proud and straight, feeling saliva gather in his mouth. So he was capable of getting hard, he thought, with a combination of relief and frustration. Why had he never gotten hard for Steve? The pants hit the floor and Steve shoved the man over onto his front, tossing the pillow out the way so he could breathe. He climbed on top of him and positioned his cock to thrust inside…

At the last second, Steve remembered something that made him freeze, made his lust-driven alpha pause in contemplation. James had never gotten wet before. He reached down and felt his ass, pressing a finger into that tight passage…

And holy hell, he was dripping with lubricant, wet as a summer rain storm. Rational thought fled and Steve positioned his cock and thrust home, his eyes rolling back in his head from the pure pleasure. He thrust again, and again, his hips snapping forward over and over, until his climax smacked him in the back of the head and he saw stars, vision clouding over from the force of his orgasm.

He collapsed on top of his omega, then miraculously remembered to pull out slightly, letting his knot line up with the omega’s pocket… and if he remembered right, then the knot should cause an orgasm, whether the omega wanted it to or not. There was a sharp satisfaction at the idea of making this body beneath him come, and Steve held onto his hips, feeling his knot swell, anticipating the moans of pleasure from a partner he’d been denied for far too long.


	12. Chapter 12

James was aware of being in excruciating pain. There was a reason for this, he thought dimly, a very good reason why he deserved this pain, something he had done terribly wrong, though just at the moment he couldn’t remember what it was. He felt hands on his body, and the only reason he didn’t try to fight them was because he could smell something that was just fantastic, something that soothed and eased him, something that made his body relax just the slightest fraction. The smell came closer, tucking in beside his body, and then there was cold, bitter air blasting across his skin, and he thought perhaps he was moving, but he didn’t remember where he was, or where he was going… and then the cold faded and was replaced with warm, and his cock throbbed, wanting more warmth, more of that wonderful alpha smell that was right beside him.

But there was a reason why he shouldn’t have the alpha, his mind repeated. Something he had done wrong, terribly wrong, that meant he deserved the pain. Another wave came at him, and he stopped thinking at all, until he resurfaced a few minutes later, feeling a rhythmic rocking sensation, his body feeling fuller and warmer, and then the pain came again, and everything went black.

 

James surfaced slowly, consciousness returning in small pieces. He was lying down on something soft and warm. His cock was throbbing, and he wanted to come now, hard and long, and then come again. And then his mind registered what was happening to his ass, a long, slick, smooth glide of something thick, pushing up inside him, then sliding out, then up inside again. And oh, fuck, he loved that, and it made him want to come all the more. He moaned and his body arched into the sensation. 

He must be back in the Duke’s estate, he thought fuzzily. That was the only place mating had ever felt this good, the heat making him wet and open and even the aging Duke had appealed then, his alpha scent driving James wild, his knot filling his ass in the most perfect way…

How had he gotten back here, though? He’d had a dream in which he’d been sent to France. It was a long way from France to Spain. When had he come back again?

There was a grunt, and then a moan from behind him, hands on his hips holding him still, that slick cock stroking the inside of his passage, and he came easily, without anyone even touching his cock. Another moan, one that sounded nothing like the Duke. This voice was deep, soft, velvety against his rattled nerves, and James moaned, wanting to hear more of that voice.

“Oh, fuck…” The body inside his paused, and then James felt a knot swelling inside him, and he came again, pulses of seed spilling out of him. The Not-Duke’s hand reached around and stroked his cock, milking the last of the orgasm, and James let out a whimper. He wanted more of that, more of the knot, another climax. Then he felt teeth nibbling at the back of his neck and he moaned again. He wanted to get bitten, wanted to feel a strong alpha on top of him, pinning him down, teeth in his neck, cock in his ass, making him feel full and hot and safe.

But the teeth didn’t bite down and the hand on his cock let go, a string of low curses being muttered into his shoulder, and that’s what woke him up properly.

He was in Steve’s bedroom, he realised as his eyes opened. Lying on Steve’s bed. But he’d been thrown out of Steve’s bedroom before. He shouldn’t be here now. 

He caught a whiff of alpha pheromones then, and his cock sprang back to life. He snuggled backwards, tugging Steve’s arms tighter around him, wanting to feel his alpha pressed up against him, even as he tried to remember what he had done that had made Steve not want him. He was a terrible omega and he didn’t deserve to be mated…

He was in heat, he remembered. Not in the Duke’s house, but in Steve’s. His realised that it must be Steve’s cock up inside him, Steve’s hands on his body, and he loved that idea so very, very much. Without thinking, he took one of Steve’s hands and put it back on his cock, encouraging him to stroke it with those slow, measured strokes that felt so fucking good…

 

Steve wasn’t sure whether James was awake yet. He’d passed out at one point, his body going limp, then he’d started moaning and Steve had felt a wave of guilt, not sure whether it was in pleasure or protest. The heat would be making him crave physical contact, crave sex, and he tried to remind himself that James wasn’t capable of making any informed decisions at the moment, even as his alpha crowed in glee as his omega sought more of his touch, more of his knot, more pleasure. Foolish omega, trying to avoid him… He wouldn’t get the chance now, and as Steve’s knot deflated, he rolled back over on top of the man, sank his teeth into his neck and began to fuck him again, long, sure strokes that had him moaning and writhing beneath him. James was enjoying this, Steve’s alpha insisted, his ass wet and dripping more lubricant by the minute, his cock hard, his seed spilled all over the bed. And if Steve could manage to work out whether the omega was even conscious or not at the moment, he might even be able to believe the nonsense his hormones were ranting about. 

He didn’t remember other matings being this intense, this insistent so early on – usually they started slowly, working up to a feverish pitch of constant fucking and mindless craving only in the second half of the twelve-hour cycle. But James had tried to avoid him. And that had sent his hormones into overdrive, the heat-scent pouring off him, a desperate attempt to attract any alpha within range. And Steve had responded just as strongly, almost mindless with the need to mate him. 

Would this relentless drive ease, he wondered, as he climaxed for the third time and felt his knot swell again. And what the hell was James feeling at the moment? Pain? Or pleasure? Or something else entirely?

 

Nine hours later, James woke slowly. His body felt sore, stiff and achy, his legs sticky and uncomfortable, and he was familiar enough with this end of proceedings that he immediately concluded that he’d just finished his heat. Thank god it was over… but even as that thought flashed through his mind, he was turning his head to see his alpha, nestled up behind him, his cock still lodged inside his ass, sound asleep.

Steve. James felt a burst of gratitude to the man, humbled that he’d chosen to mate with him instead of leaving him to suffer. But on the heels of that thought was the worry over what they would do now. Would they resume their physical relationship, James having proven himself able to satisfy his master, or would they continue their awkward ruse, fooling everyone on the estate into believing they were mating on a regular basis? Or would Steve finally tire of the level of maintenance James required and seek a more easy going omega?

The heat had been eye-opening, in more ways than one. During his previous heats, the Duke had been an almost mechanical lover, performing the basic functions of intercourse and knotting, but he’d barely touched James aside from that, and he’d gotten accustomed to the hands-off style of sex. Mating with Steve had been a revelation, hands and mouth and skin against skin, an overwhelming riot of sensations that had left James uncomfortable and confused… until now. The heat, with its overwhelming surges of hormones and lust and craving had turned an awkward, nerve-racking imposition into an erotic smorgasbord of pleasure. He clearly remembered touching Steve _everywhere_ , astonished and captivated by the feel of smooth skin and firm muscle beneath his fingers, by the texture of nipples and the skin over his cock and the taste of him, daring to lave his tongue over Steve’s erection after the same had been done to him.

Kissing, too, was something he now understood a whole lot better, seeing a direct parallel between the way Steve had thrust his tongue into his mouth, and the way he’d thrust his cock up James’s ass. Rather than an invasive trespass, it was an erotic dance that he’d come to thoroughly enjoy over the past nine hours.

It wasn’t all sunshine and kittens, James knew. He still shuddered at the thought of being mated by anyone other than Steve, dreaded the thought of other, unfamiliar hands upon his body. Even the thought of Steve mounting him had him wincing, now that the hormones had worn off, despite his new resolve to enjoy the mating.

But Steve had been so gentle, so considerate and patient, even in the midst of the heat-driven lust that had consumed them both, that James found himself hardening even now at the memory of it, feeling a weak seeping of moisture in his back end. If that was what Steve had been trying all this time to get him to understand, then he was more than willing to embrace the mating.

But how on earth was he supposed to express that to Steve? He was still bound by rules of rank and status, and while the heat sidestepped a lot of those conventions, once it was over the status quo was back in full force. He could no more demand that Steve mate him than he could insist that he be fed, or treated with kindness, or allowed to rest at the end of the day. His life was to be lived at the whim of his master… and previous attempts to encourage Steve to mate with him had fallen flat. 

The man behind him shifted then, his cock slipping out of James in a slick rush, fluid seeping after it, and James held his breath, not wanting Steve to awaken yet, still too confused about his own sudden about-face in the bedroom department, and too shy to try and explain it to his master. Six months of rejection was not easily overcome-

“James!” Steve woke suddenly, pulling away sharply, and James closed his eyes and bit his lip. More rejection, even despite their frantic intimacy. “Are you alright?” Steve asked cautiously, and James rolled over, sitting up himself.

“Yes, sir.”

There was silence after that, James staring at the bed, feeling Steve’s eyes on him. “Would you like me to leave?” 

“You need to wash,” Steve said, then reached out and pulled a cord on the wall. It led to the housekeeper’s room, and only a minute later, Carolyn was knocking on the door.

Steve pulled a blanket up over both of them before allowing the woman to enter, asking for a tub of hot water to be delivered to the room.

Then he climbed out of bed and went to his dresser. Pulled open a drawer and took out a small packet of herbs.

“You know what this is?” he asked, handing the packet to James. And James nodded, as the bottom once more fell out of his world. The herbs were to be used to make tea, a potent combination which acted as a powerful birth-control agent. Every omega who was not used for breeding was required to take these herbs after their heat, ensuring they would not fall pregnant. And somehow, in the haze of mating and the revelations about sex, this had not even occurred to James. He was no longer a breeding omega. He was not to carry a child. And in three days time, he would wake to a pool of blood between his legs, a vivid reminder of the shame all those months ago that had taken his life on such a rapid and degrading downturn.


	13. Chapter 13

Winter gave way to spring, lambs dropping in the fields, the green tips of buds appearing on the trees, the air full of bird song as chicks hatched and their parents searched for grubs and seeds to feed hungry mouths. 

Steve had not attempted to mate with James again after his heat, and for reasons that were both compelling and unexpected, James found himself with no desire to push the issue. He worked hard, kept to himself, and accepted the master’s generosity in continuing to keep an un-used omega with patient resignation. The ruse continued, James being called to his master’s bedroom to hide their celibacy from the rest of the estate, and he left with deliberately rumpled hair and creases in his shirt, though neither had been caused by playing in Steve’s bed.

His was living on borrowed time, he knew, but as he led the horses out to the paddock for some grazing time, the sun warm on his neck and the sky a clear blue, he found it hard to regret his decision. He would regret it eventually, he knew. Plans like this did not come without consequences. And even James hadn’t been able to figure out why he’d done what he had. A chance to prove his worth? A way to correct the mistakes of the past? Or a reckless mistake based on raw emotions and unrealistic longings? 

He shook his head as he released the horses. Only time would tell…

 

Three hours of time, to be exact, and as with so much of life, the discovery came by pure chance. James had been filling the hay rack of a feisty mare when she’d taken a mouthful, butted her head against James and dropped the clump of hay down the back of his shirt. 

With a curse, he backed out of the stall and shut her in, then stripped off his shirt, brushing course grass from his skin and giving the shirt a thorough shake. And his master chose just that moment to walk into the stable. 

James brushed the last strands of grass away and pulled his shirt back on, turning away from Steve as he did so, hoping that he wouldn’t notice-

“James.” 

Fuck. The word was no simple greeting, not a command to complete a task or obey an order, and definitely not an expression of any kind of affection. Instead, that single word was laced with alarm, confusion, doubt… And James turned to face his master with a quiet acceptance of his fate. He had brought this upon himself. It was time to face the music.

“Take your shirt off,” Steve said, and James complied, dropping it at his side, letting his master see his body clearly.

Steve stepped forward, his expression clouded with disbelief, with confusion… then he reached out and put his hand on James’s belly, a slow, almost sensual caress that drifted downwards, over the bump that hadn’t been there the last time he’d seen James naked.

A pause, which grew longer.

“Are you pregnant?”

“Yes, sir.” He didn’t hesitate to answer, but the words came out in a thin whisper, fears that James thought he had accepted leaping up to choke him all over again. 

“Did you take the herbs I gave you?”

“No.”

And then the question that had always confounded him, that continued to leave him dumbfounded and agape. “Why?” 

Why did his master insist on letting his omegas explain themselves? How the hell was he supposed to know why? He only knew that he’d taken the herbs to the kitchen, made a cup of hot water, and stood there for the next half an hour, hand hovering over the cup, ready to pour the herbs in, and finding himself completely and utterly unable to go through with it. He’d done the same thing the day after, and the day after that, until he’d finally had to admit to himself that he wasn’t going to abort the pregnancy. 

And then he’d spent the next week trying to justify the decision to himself, knowing that there was no justification for it. He was disobeying his master, bringing shame and embarrassment upon the estate, breaking one of the most sacred lessons of his training. Non-breeding omegas did not bear children. They did not have the right. They were tools of their masters, and everything, right down to their ability to create new life, was done at the whim of those that owned them.

All he knew was that he’d lost a child once before, and his entire life had crumbled as a result of it. How this was supposed to make that better, he didn’t know, and couldn’t explain, but his master was still standing there, waiting for him to say something that made a modicum of sense, and so he tried, stuttered and fumbled and felt like the awkward, nervous omega he’d been when he’d first set foot on this property. After a while, he fell silent, having no idea whether he’d expressed himself properly, and aware that there were tears dripping down his face, instinctively needing to curl his hand over his belly to protect the child inside, and forcing himself not to.

“Put your shirt on,” Steve said, his voice calm and unreadable. “Come over to the main house.”

James did, suddenly remembering the first time he’d followed this man from stable to manor, to the bedroom with the fruit in the bowl and the strange conversation they’d had sitting on the sofas. He glanced over his shoulder to the orchard, just visible beyond the storage barn, and wondered if it was the last time he would ever see it.

 

Steve sat on the chair, head in his hands, while his father stared at him like he’d grown a second head. The man ran a hand over his hair, rubbed his eyes, sat back and tapped the arm of the chair. He’d taken the bombshell Steve had just dropped with even more astonishment than Steve himself had, and they’d sat in silence for several minutes, neither of them having a clue what to say. Or what was to be done. 

It was too late to safely abort the pregnancy. A pregnant omega couldn’t be sold, not until after the birth, but even then, there was the question of what to do with the child. Steve’s colouring would likely show up in any offspring he fathered, and the entire neighbourhood knew that he wasn’t the master of the house, that he wasn’t authorised to be siring children. And that was cause for further embarrassment, above and beyond the shame of having such an obviously disobedient omega. There were those who would see this as Steve’s attempt to usurp his father’s position. There were few greater insults than for an alpha to deliberately begin breeding without the approval of the head of the house, the move a political statement to the effect that he believed his father was incapable of continuing to run the estate.

Others in the neighbourhood would see this as proof that the Cortez’s policy of respect and compassion towards their omegas was a faulty method, prone to making the omegas daring and audacious well past their station. James had opened a can of worms far bigger than he realised, and there was no clear solution to the problem.

“Did he say why?” Frank asked, a deep frown creasing his forehead.

“Nothing that made a lot of sense. I know he used to be the breeding omega of a Duke, and he told me once that he was sold for failing to fall pregnant after a heat. So all I can gather from what he said was that this is some bizarre attempt to fix his own past.”

“I told you this omega was going to be trouble,” Frank said, but Steve wouldn’t hear it. 

“You told me he was going to be violent and mean,” he snapped back, his nerves at breaking point. “And he wasn’t, and he’s not, so keep your damned ‘I told you so’s to yourself.” Steve was somewhat shocked at himself, the outburst well out of character, and a distant part of his mind recognised it as a symptom of too much frustration and self-doubt. He hadn’t had sex in months, hadn’t touched his personal omega, was fraught with concern over having failed to assuage his fears about mating – he’d even go so far as to say he was a little offended by James’s continued distrust of him – and now his father was simply rubbing salt in the wound. All his bold plans about rehabilitating the man had gotten him nowhere, and far from ending up unwaveringly loyal, the omega was now stabbing them in the back by deliberately carrying an illegitimate child. How the hell had this gone so far wrong?

“I’m sorry,” he apologised quietly. “I just… I don’t know what to do-“

“It’s okay. I understand what’s going on here.” Well, Steve certainly didn’t, so he waited for his father to explain. “You have a great deal of wisdom and skill in managing this estate, and I respect that, but in this instance, your judgment is clouded by your feelings for the omega,” Frank said. 

Steve gaped at him. If he’d stripped naked and started doing the can-can, he couldn’t have been more surprised. “What?”

“I’ve seen the way you look at him. You’re completely smitten.” Frank smiled sadly. “I’d know. I felt the same way about Josephine for years.” Josephine had been their last breeding omega, the one who had died of pneumonia, and though he knew his father had been fond of her, it was a shock to hear him admit it so plainly. “I know how you feel, but James is damaged somehow. Something’s not right in his head, and… I don’t want to see him break your heart.”

Steve closed his eyes and sighed. It was true, though he would have phrased the whole thing in less intense terms. He found James fascinating, highly attractive, the rare moments when he smiled making his heart skip a beat. He was smart, able to read, though how he’d learned was a mystery, and the scars on his face lent him a rugged, tough look that was so at odds with the usual image of an omega, meek and placid, that it was impossible not to find them endearing.

An image shot to mind, of Garrus and Tali, all those months ago, so happy together, so possessive of each other, and Steve suddenly found himself needing to ask a question that had been niggling at him for years. “Why did you and Josephine never bond?”

The sudden sadness in his father’s eyes made him regret the question… and yet he still needed to know the answer. 

“What do you know of the bonding process?” Frank asked quietly.

“Not a lot,” Steve admitted. Actually, he knew almost nothing at all. “I just know that it requires an extended period of intimacy between the pair, and once it’s formed, it’s permanent.”

Frank nodded. “That’s the guts of it. The effects of the bonding are far-reaching, but the formation of the bond only requires a few things. As well as needing intimacy, the pair also requires fidelity – either of them mating with another partner will stall, or even cancel the bonding process altogether. And it’s necessarily a mutual arrangement. Both partners need to have a deep affection for the other.”

“But you had all that with Josephine,” Steve said, knowing he was pushing, but needing to understand, now that they’d come this far. “You loved her. You never mated with anyone else, not for years.”

“True,” Frank said. “But the affection must be mutual.” Steve stared at him in confusion… and then the pieces suddenly slipped into place. And he felt his heart break for his father’s pain. 

What he meant was that Josephine had never returned his affection.

“I did everything I could for her,” Frank admitted quietly. “But it never bore any fruit. And I see history repeating itself with you and James. You’ve given him a whole new world, a life here, a position of respect, safety and security… and this is what he does in return? How long are you willing to keep fighting a losing battle?”

 

In the end, Steve went back to James and sent him back to his duties in the stable. 

“What are you going to do with me?” the omega had asked quietly.

“We haven’t decided yet,” Steve told him. He and his father had spent the last hour chewing over the options, none of them seeming suitable, and there was no point having the omega sitting around like a decorative statue while they debated it. 

Dinner was tense. The entire house knew by now that the alphas were unhappy, and that James had something to do with it, but asking outright would have been a serious breach of protocol, and James himself was unlikely to enlighten them. It was a wonder that someone hadn’t noticed, given that the omegas all bathed together in the washhouse, but perhaps he had simply been good at hiding it.

By the time two o’clock in the morning rolled around, Steve was still lying awake, no closer to a solution, no more willing to sell James than he had been a week, or a month, or six months ago. But there was no way to hide his pregnancy forever. A beta couple on the estate would need to agree to raise the child. A midwife would have to be arranged to oversee the birth. And then there was the very pragmatic consideration that the estate didn’t currently have a breeding omega. Children were a necessity of life, the next generation of alphas and servants and omegas, and while they could get by for a few years, sooner or later they would need a new one. And with Frank disinclined to mate, the responsibility would fall to Steve. The oldest male child on the estate had turned fifteen and soon would begin showing signs of his gender, but until definite signs showed, they had to assume that they didn’t have another alpha, and so breeding one should be a top priority.

But they couldn’t simply buy a new breeding omega at the moment. It would be an insult to them to have someone else pregnant on the estate at the same time. 

God, what a mess… 

 

The next three days were a nightmare for James. The omegas had given up shooting him sideways glances, silent requests for gossip about what the hell had the alphas so worked up, and started asking direct questions instead. Steve and Frank had spent countless hours closeted away in Frank’s study, talking, thumbing through legal texts. Steve was barely sleeping, Carolyn reported, spending his nights pacing the house instead. Frank had spent long periods standing at the main window overlooking the estate, simply staring out over his land. And all the while, no one had leaked so much as a whisper about what the problem was. 

But the omegas knew it had started with James, and it was not just idle curiosity that had them swamping him with questions. There was also a genuine concern for him, a fear that one of their own would be sold or dismissed, the lingering question of just how far someone could push the Cortez alphas before punishment was required.

But he’d kept his mouth shut, knowing that the omegas would be thoroughly shocked if they knew what he had done. And maybe they would then withdraw their support of him, turn away and cast him out as Steve was bound to do in the end. Because he couldn’t be kept. He couldn’t be allowed to usurp such a coveted position as breeding omega without consequence. And he also didn’t know what was taking the alphas so long to decide. He would give birth, the child would be traded away to another estate, and then he would be sold. What other alternative was there?

 

The omegas were sitting down to dinner on the third day when the door to the kitchen opened and Steve stepped inside. There was instant silence, Henry even stopping with his fork in his mouth, every one ceasing to move, to even chew or swallow their food.

“James.” With a single word he was summoned, and he stood, his body feeling suddenly wooden, abandoning his plate of food, and followed the master back to the main house. He could feel the omegas’ eyes burning into his back, and dreaded having to break the news to them. Unless Steve did it for him, wanting to shame him in front of the entire estate.

“Sit down,” Steve said to him once they reached the sitting room. Frank was already waiting for them, seated on a soft chair, a cushion at his back, and James realised all of a sudden how old the master of the house had become. 

He sat down on the edge of a lounge, tense, but resigned. His life was a mess, and he was tired of trying to fix it, trying to outrun his own fate. He knew how Jack had felt, just wanting this to all be over.

“We’ve made a decision,” Frank told him. “And let me say first of all that I am sorely disappointed in your actions. Steve brought you here in good faith, gave you a privileged existence, put his trust in you, and you’ve let him down badly.”

“Yes, sir,” James replied, staring at the floor. 

“I expect more of my omegas. I expect loyalty, and obedience, and the good sense to know when an action is bad not just for yourself, but for the entire estate.”

James said nothing. What was there to say? 

“However,” Frank went on, “there are also some pragmatic considerations. This estate is short of alphas. We don’t currently have a breeding omega, and years of diligent work are required if we’re to secure a future as optimistic as the recent past has been. So I want to ask you something: Do you consider this estate to be one worthy of respect?”

“Yes, sir,” James said without thinking… but then Steve cleared his throat.

“James,” he said, in that soft, velvety voice, the one that had James’s nerves sparking with longing and heat, despite the very dire situation he was in. God, he wanted to stay with Steve, wanted to listen to that voice forever, wanted to make the disappointment in his eyes fade away. “Look at me.” He did, seeing Steve’s expression to be as stern and serious as he had imagined. “We’re not asking you this just to force the right answer out of you. I want an honest response. You’ve seen how we work, how we do business. You’ve seen how we treat the omegas, and how we help the neighbours. You’ve seen the mistakes we’ve made over the past year. We’re not perfect. So I’ll ask you again, and I want an honest answer. Do you believe this estate is worthy of respect?”

James glanced from Steve to Frank and back. Most unusual alphas, both of them, breaking social conventions again and again to support those dependant on them, to achieve justice and fairness, rather than just following the rules that society expected of them. “Yes,” he replied with conviction. “Yes, I do.”

“And do you understand that your actions could have seriously damaged the status and reputation of this estate.”

James flushed bright red. He hadn’t thought of that… “Yes, sir.”

“On a slightly different topic,” Frank went on, “I want to ask you a number of things about your past. Making a decision about your future has been extremely difficult, and it would help to put a few things in context. So let’s start with where you were born.”

“I was born in the estate of the Earl of Durcal, in the south of Spain.”

“You were educated?”

“Yes, sir. The Earl had all male children educated, taught to read and write and to understand mathematics. He considered it a good investment in the future, regardless of the fact that some of the children would become omegas.”

“And the omega you were born to? What was their background?”

“She had been bought from Madrid, from the house of a cousin of the king.”

That got Frank’s attention. “She was the omega of a prince?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And when you were sold from that house? Where did you go?”

“A neighbouring estate wanted a breeding omega. I was about to turn eighteen, so I was sold as a virgin to the Duke.”

“Were you ever punished for any infractions in his house?”

“No, sir.” Once upon a time, he’d been an omega of some quality, well behaved, respected by the house. But that was before he’d become a whore to a merchant.

“So you come from excellent bloodlines, you’re educated and you were once far better behaved than you have been here,” Frank concluded, and the dry humor in his tone was not lost on James. “Do you think that, given the right motivation, you might once more be convinced to adhere to the expected behaviour of a polite and civilised omega?”

James opened his mouth to agree… but hesitated. Could he? Could he just sweep aside all the violence done to him and pretend to be a quality omega again? “I don’t think so, sir,” he said, praying he’d be given time to explain his denial. “After I was sold, I was used harshly. And I… I find some of the duties of an omega to be very difficult. If I was to be given a different station, I… I’m sorry. I’m not a very good omega any more. I would like to be, but I… I would not get along well with most masters.”

He’d either just explained the inexplicable, an omega who didn’t want to be an omega, or dug his own grave. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Steve and Frank exchanged a meaningful glance.

“Steve said something very similar about you,” Frank admitted quietly. “And I appreciate your honesty. Despite your… difficulties, you seem to have maintained a sense of justice, of decency, and aside from a few minor infractions – current circumstances notwithstanding – you’ve been a dutiful omega here. And with all of this in mind, Steve and I have made a decision about your future.”

James held his breath, waited for the hammer to fall…

“You will remain here on the estate. You will carry the child to full term. I’m too old to continue breeding, so I’m officially authorizing Steven to become the breeding alpha of the estate. I’ll visit the local Baron in the morning to inform him of this change of status. And once Steve is authorised to breed… you will become the breeding omega of the Cortez Estate.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap, I've just writen over 40 000 words on this fic, and I'm currently in the process of drafting chapter 19 (no, I'm not holding out on you... the other chapters are still undergoing editing.) And I expect there'll be at least three or four more chapters after that. This is turning into a mammoth exercise... and it all started from an idea that was supposed to be a single chapter pwp back with 'Choices all my Own'. Gah... oh well, gotta get back to writing...

James’s head was spinning as he stumbled back across the courtyard to the omegas’ quarters. Breeding omega. It wasn’t possible. He’d been forbidden from telling anyone else until Steve was formally authorised to breed, but dodging the omega’s questions wasn’t a concern. 

He was to be allowed to carry the child. He was to be kept.

He stopped in the middle of the yard and stared up at the sky, black creeping in over deepening blue as the night came on.

He wanted to be grateful for this bizarre turn of events, wanted to feel joy and relief and hope… but this was yet one more turn of fate that made his life feel utterly out of control. He should have been cast out. He was a disobedient omega, bringing insult and scandal to his master’s estate. And in return, he’d been promoted to the highest position he could achieve in this house.

Tears leaked from his eyes as he stared at the slowly emerging stars. What the fuck did this all mean? Was there any meaning to it? Was there some cosmic plan for his life, or was it all just random chance?

And who the hell was this alpha who so wantonly overturned generations of protocol and decided to promote his most disobedient omega to the most coveted position on the estate?

Deciding he couldn’t face the omegas after all, James slipped around the back of the house, crept into the omegas’ sleeping quarters in the dark, and hastily climbed into bed. He wouldn’t sleep tonight, he knew, but perhaps if he pretended he was, then the others would leave him alone. Henry, who would congratulate him. Helen, who would smile and wink her sharp blue eyes at him. And Liara. Liara’s early fear of him had turned into quiet but forceful resentment. Despite his best efforts to befriend her, to convince her he wasn’t a monster to be avoided, she had consistently treated him with wary apprehension… and then with poorly disguised dislike. He’d never pressed the issue, not sure he actually wanted to know what he’d done wrong, but he would bet that the pretty young woman would be sharply displeased about his sudden promotion. And affronted by the cause of it.

And he wasn’t too impressed himself, truth be told. Some people said that life had a way of balancing things out, too much blessing attracting a fall of one’s fortunes to even out the good with the bad. And though he’d been through a heavy dose of bad, this blessing seemed far too big for a whore who had been bought on a lucky chance. Was something worse headed his way in retaliation for this? Or was it all just a random mix of luck?

 

Three days later, James was finally coming to terms with his new role. The omegas had been shocked, as had the betas. The cook had dropped her mixing bowl when she’d been told, sending flour flying across the room in a white cloud. Carolyn had gaped at him, a choked, stuttering sound coming from her mouth. Henry had said ‘Great!’ and then ‘What?’ and rounded it off with a ‘Flaming heck!’.

But Liara had surprised him the most. He’d expected more resentment from her, perhaps a cutting comment about his lack of morals in getting deliberately pregnant. But instead she had simply ducked her head and excused herself from the room.

But one thing had finally sunk in, after he’d spent three days contemplating the very odd change in his circumstances, and that was that he and Steve could no longer maintain their illicit lack of a relationship. He was a breeding omega. He’d been admonished by the master of the house for not behaving in a more appropriate manner. And it was well past the time when he should resume performing his duties in the bedroom.

He didn’t have long to wait. Steve was in the habit of calling him to his room every four or five days, and sure enough, as the sun was passing its zenith and the day was turning hot and dusty, he heard the inevitable footsteps outside the stable.

“James?” James was already putting down his pitchfork and brushing the hay off his pants. “Come over to the main house.” It was the tone of his request that told James the nature of his request. Omegas were occasionally summoned to the house for other reasons, to be given new duties, or reprimanded for failing at their responsibilities, but when he wanted to ‘mate’, Steve’s voice was always the same, a smooth, almost husky invitation, and James had yet to figure out if it was because he wanted to fool anyone who might be listening, or because the ruse was actually turning him on.

Well, it wouldn’t be a ruse for much longer, James thought determinedly, as he followed his master to his bedroom. The usual course of events after the door was shut was that Steve would sit as his desk and do some work, writing a letter, perhaps, or going over the accounts, and James would sit on the sofa, free to read one of the rare and coveted books in the house. It had taken him weeks to work up the courage to touch them, and then he was always particularly careful, making sure his hands were clean and turning the pages with painstakingly gentle fingers.

Steve closed the door and moved towards the desk, and James knew that if he didn’t turn this around swiftly, then he would loose all courage for it. Even now, the thought of going to bed with Steve had him nervous, heart rate picking up, breathing coming quicker… and holy hell, he felt a small rush of moisture in his back passage. A faint tremor of sensation in his cock…

“Sir?”

“What is it?” Steve asked amicably, hands on the chair, ready to sit down. 

“Your father… the master… he said something the other day that… It got me thinking.” He had to be careful how he phrased this. An omega – even a breeding omega – could never tell their master what to do. And for a long time, he’d thought Steve hadn’t been mating with him because he no longer desired him; admittedly, that had been a relief for a time. But since he’d been promoted to breeding omega, he’d been re-evaluating that conclusion. He should have been cast out, sold, abandoned… and for him to have been promoted, there was no other conclusion to reach but that Steve still found him attractive, or at least useful in some way.

But all he could do was make subtle suggestions, insinuations, careful that his ideas never turned into demands or accusations. If their matings had failed in the past, it was entirely his own fault, not his master’s.

“You haven’t mated with me since my heat,” he said slowly. “And I realise that I wasn’t particularly good at it before that. But I… I wondered if I might be better at pleasing you now.”

But rather than embrace the idea, or even consider it, Steve let out a sigh and rubbed his eyes. “James, we’re not going to sell you. You have nothing to prove to me. And if you only ever want to mate during your heat, then that’s fine-“

“I enjoyed it,” James said, turning bright red, eyes fixed on the floor in embarrassment, and fuck, now he was getting a real erection, remembering the way Steve had felt inside him during the heat, the way his skin had felt against James’s, the husky sound of his voice moaning in pleasure. How could he not stand in awe of an alpha who had done so much for him, had given him a position of respect and a life of relative safety and happiness?

And he was happy, James realised. Not the exuberant joy he’d felt as a youth, but a softer, quieter happiness that embraced the solitude of the estate and the slow rhythm of his work. And in some strange way, he wanted to share that with his master.

But Steve was a long way from being on board with his sudden declaration. “You enjoyed what?”

Really? He had to explain this? Because clearly, he wasn’t embarrassed enough already… “I enjoyed mating with you. During my heat.” And he’d thought Steve had enjoyed it as well. His body wasn’t yet so swollen with the pregnancy that it should make his master find him unappealing, and he knew that Steve hadn’t mated with any of the house-mates in months. Shouldn’t he be getting a more enthusiastic response that this? He dared to glance up, wondering what Steve was thinking, what was taking him so long.

“I thought… You never liked mating before. I thought you hated me touching you.”

Even if it was true, how the hell was he supposed to admit such a thing? An omega existed to please his master. “The heat was… very different. It showed me that it can be… better.”

Steve sighed. “My father told you off for not being a good omega,” he pointed out dryly. “So how the hell am I supposed to know whether you’re telling me this because it’s true, or because you think you need to earn your place in this house?”

Six months ago, James would have been completely unable to answer that question, both words and actions failing him. But now, on the back of his recent promotion, and with the sudden and forceful cooperation of his body, he had both the courage and the conviction to make his true feelings known. He stepped closer to Steve, slowly, so as to reveal his intentions, took his hand, and placed it firmly over the small tent in the front of his pants. “I enjoyed it,” he said simply, looking his master in the eye.

The hand on his crotch moved, a tentative squeeze as if to check that the lump Steve was feeling really was there. James’s breath caught in his throat at the movement, and then it became a stroke, smooth and deliberate.

“And did you like kissing me?” Steve asked, his voice taking on a husky tone that sent a pulse of dampness to James’s passage.

“Yes.” He was staring at Steve’s lips. Licked his own. Felt a hand cupping his jaw and then Steve leaned forward and kissed him, a soft mouth against his own, the slightest tug on his lower lip, the faint hint of a moan.

The hand left his groin and pressed against his shoulder instead, guiding him closer towards the bed, and he went willingly. That hand slid down to linger on his belly, the small bump there that was the cause of so much change in his life, and then up under his shirt, as those lips kissed him again, tongue darting out for a taste, and lingering when James’s tongue met it.

A sharp knock at the door interrupted them and Steve pulled back, cursing under his breath. With a shake of his head he stalked to the door and yanked it open. “What?”

Carolyn stood on the other side, looking embarrassed and apologetic. “Forgive me for the interruption, sir. It’s Liara. She’s gone into heat.”

Steve’s first reaction was to glance at James, a wealth of regret and uncertainty in his eyes, and James would remember that one, small gesture for a long time. Then Steve chewed on his lip and shifted in agitation. “Bring her here,” he said finally. “I’ll see her through it.”

Carolyn closed the door and retreated, and Steve turned to James with an apologetic impatience. “I’m sorry. This is her first heat since she’s come to the estate. And only her second heat ever.” The second heat was particularly significant, even more so than the first. An omega’s first heat consisted of a few hours of abdominal cramps, combined with a lingering sexual arousal, but it was nothing like as severe as the regular heats omegas went through every year. “I need to be with her for this.”

James nodded. Of course he did. It was only proper, and to do anything less for the youngest, most inexperienced omega on the estate would have been terribly negligent. But even so, he was aware of the flash of jealousy that was snarling at the idea that his master was going to mate another omega in his bedroom. 

“I’ll go,” James said, donning his carefully neutral mask. His mind was a riot of thoughts and ghastly images. He could imagine Steve’s hands on the other omega’s body, his dark colouring a contrast to her pale skin. Would he touch her all over like he did with James? Allow her to touch him? Would he kiss her? Of course he would. He was going to murmur those soothing words to her and make sure she was comfortable and ease her through her anxiety, and god, it felt like a red hot poker had just been stabbed through his chest. 

He opened the door, startled to find Liara on the other side, her hand reaching out to knock. And as she saw him, her eyes widened in surprise… and then narrowed in a dark glare.

James deliberately ignored her, knowing the only other option right now was to do her harm, violence shimmering in his veins, and he stepped to the side, letting her past before he slipped out into the hall and closed the door. 

Everyone knew that alphas were notoriously possessive of their omegas, prone to violence if a heat-mating was interrupted. But what not everyone knew was that omegas could be just as possessive during their cycle. And if it had been anyone else, James would have dismissed her coldness as hormonal territorialism. But Liara seemed to have much more serious and permanent objections to his presence. And maybe it was time he found out just why that was. 

With the chaos in his head, James wasn’t paying attention as he came down the stairs into the main hall, and as he reached the bottom, David, the oldest child, fifteen years and on the brink of manhood, came tearing around the corner and ran smack into him. James didn’t flinch – he was twice the size of the youngster and hardly felt the collision – but David stumbled badly and put out his hands to catch himself, inadvertently planting one of them right over the slight bulge in James’s belly.

And just as quickly he jerked back, eyes wide, face suddenly gone pale. “I’m sorry!” David blurted out, looking horrified. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there. I didn’t mean to. I’m really sorry.”

Children were an odd consideration in the upper classes. They technically held no rank, no status, since they could turn out to be alpha, beta or omega. They couldn’t order an omega around, lest they turn out to be one, but then again, they couldn’t be ordered by betas or omegas, in case they were alphas. They were generally disciplined by alphas, and tolerated by everyone else, though the wiser among the children learned to be amicable to the lower genders and gain favour and treats as a reward.

But even among children there was one rule that held firm, and that was that no one - _no one_ \- ever touched a pregnant omega. No one but the alpha who had sired the child. And for all that it was unintentional, David could have been in serious trouble for the breach.

But James saw no reason to make a fuss. “It’s okay,” he said dismissively. “Just slow down, hm?”

“Yes, sir. Of course,” David agreed hurriedly, nodding his head… and in his fear and alarm, his eyes flashed to a bright, vivid, golden colour.

“Carolyn!” James yelled, and the housemaid came running. 

“What is it-?“

James grabbed the boy and spun him around, pointing his face at the woman… and she gasped, clapping her hand over her mouth in shock. “Oh, my… We must go and see the master. Come on,” she grabbed the boy’s hand, startling him even more, and dragged him in the direction of Frank’s study. An urgent knock at the door had them admitted quickly, and Carolyn shoved the boy through the door.

“What is it?” Frank asked sharply. Interruptions of this nature were against protocol-

“David just flared,” James said bluntly, the colloquial term for the flash of gold in the eyes. It was the first sign that a boy was going to be either an alpha or an omega. Betas were determined by a process of elimination. If the child in question hadn’t flared by their 17th birthday, they were declared to be a beta. But the flash of gold happened periodically throughout puberty in both alphas and omegas, brought on by intense emotions or stress. And then it was all a matter of waiting to see if the boy’s genitals developed. If his penis grew significantly, he was an alpha. If it didn’t, he was a beta, and many the pubescent boy had spent hours in the wash room, measuring their own genitals over and over again, praying and longing for the signs that they would become an alpha.

Frank instantly looked to Carolyn for confirmation of the announcement – as with matters of the law, omegas were not considered reliable witnesses to household matters. The woman nodded, and David paled. As of this instant, he was on the verge of either his greatest dream, or his worst nightmare.

“Oh,” said Frank, seeming rather taken aback by the news. David was nearly sixteen, and so far had shown no signs of being anything other than a beta. The news must be startling. “Well… I see. Well, you’d better come in then,” he said to the boy, and both James and Carolyn took that as their dismissal, retreating and closing the door. What happened next was a serious responsibility, almost a sacred ritual, no matter whether one was nobility, or the lowest of outcasts. The boy would be asked to drop his pants and the master of the house would measure his penis. The ritual would be repeated weekly for the next six months, at which time a declaration would be made as to his gender.

James repressed a shudder as he remembered his own puberty. Remembered sitting in the wash room, tugging on his member, hoping it would grow, hoping he could stretch it and convince the master that he was an alpha, even when he was long past any real hope that it would be so.

He didn’t envy the boy his next few months.

A moment later, he realised that both he and Carolyn were standing motionless in the hall, both lost in thought… and he remembered the other niggling thought on his mind, before he’d been distracted with the latest drama.

“Could I ask you something?” he asked politely. Carolyn had always been courteous to him, never holding a grudge or expressing any disapproval about the strange turns of his life.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Liara,” he said bluntly. “I was wondering if you know why she dislikes me so much.”

Carolyn raised her eyebrows, but didn’t look particularly surprised at the question. “You’d noticed that, huh? Sure, I can tell you why. But not here. Come and sit in the laundry. This is the sort of conversation that needs a little privacy.”

He followed her without comment and took the stool she offered him when they were closeted away in the servant’s part of the house. 

“Liara,” she said pensively. “There’s a tale to tell. Liara was bought not long before you were. After our last breeding omega died, we had room for another, and Frank heard of a female omega going at a high price from an estate north of here. Halfway to Paris, as the crow flies. So he bought her. She was a virgin, from an excellent bloodline. And rumour has it he thought she would make a good personal omega for Steve. I don’t think he ever told him that, but it’s not an unlikely situation.

“And for a while, it seemed to work. Liara was bought as a house-mate, but Steve seemed to like her, took her virginity, mated with her often, almost to the exclusion of anyone else. And then the rumors started that she might be used for breeding.”

Carolyn paused, shifting the pile of clothes she had been folding to a large basket, and then started on the next stack.

“And then?” James prompted, when she didn’t continue.

“And then? And then you arrived,” she said dryly, but her voice lacked any kind of accusation. The dramas of omegas’ lives were beneath a beta of good standing. “She was booted out of a role she’d never really been given, and for a while, she was scared they were going to sell her. They didn’t, but it’s a fair disappointment to go from a realistic hope that you’re going to be a breeding omega, to a cold realisation that you’ll only ever be a house-mate. None of this is your fault, of course, but she can’t exactly blame Steve, can she? “

No, she couldn’t. But she could still dream, and hope, and having her favourite alpha mating with her during her heat was bound to upset the fragile peace of the estate. An omega’s hormones went crazy during the heat, and the effects didn’t always fade away again afterwards. His own lingering attraction to Steve was evidence enough of that.

But the deeper question in his mind – and one he would likely never get an answer to – was why hadn’t Steve taken her as his personal omega in the first place?


	15. Chapter 15

Dark thoughts had plagued James all night after Steve had kicked him out so he could mate with Liara. He had assumed his role as breeding omega was secure, but in reality, he had only five more months of any kind of certainty. Then he would give birth, and regardless of the sex and health of the child, he could be removed from his position as breeding omega and replaced. And perhaps that’s what Steve had planned all along, waiting until Liara was older before she was to be promoted to that position. Just because he had usurped her this year didn’t mean that would always be the case.

A strange part of him was also relieved that Steve had chosen to see the heat through in his bedroom, after all. With his newly discovered desire for sex, James didn’t think he could have stood listening to the moans of pleasure all night. 

Even now, mid morning and lugging a wheelbarrow of horse manure, he found his thoughts returning to what had happened during his last heat, the way his body had felt, the profound satisfaction of seeing his alpha so thoroughly pleased and pleasured. His ass had been seeping moisture all morning and he found himself worried that if he kept this up, he’d end up with a damp spot on the back of his pants.

He dumped the barrow-load off the ledge into the compost pile and felt eyes watching him. He looked around… and saw David, lurking beside the storage shed, staring at him.

Poor kid. James knew exactly what he was thinking. Wondering whether he was going to end up an omega, like James. Probably wondering whether he would be a breeding omega, or a house mate. Terrified of what kind of master he would end up with. Or maybe he was contemplating being an alpha, and wondering what sort of omega he’d like to mate with. 

James had had all those thoughts, and plenty more, in the slow weeks of waiting to find out his own gender. And the months of anticipation didn’t make the final realisation any easier. He’d dragged his feet as he was led into the master’s study, already knowing the declaration that was to be made, but hearing it, the final and unquestionable news that he was an omega, and was to be sent to the omegas’ training school, had made his heart skip a beat, and after the meeting he’d promptly dashed outside and thrown up.

He nodded to the boy, then turned back to the stables… but just as he did, he caught a glimpse of Liara, slinking out of the wash room, her hair wet, looking tired and despondent. Odd that she should feel that way. After a heat, omegas usually felt energised for a day or two, the lingering effects of the hormones wearing off slowly and making them extra sociable and willing to be mated. Based on the time Steve had been called upon, her heat would have ended nearly eight hours ago, and assuming Steve had let her sleep the rest of the night in his room, she should have had time to recover sufficiently to be attending to her regular duties by now.

She lifted her head and caught him watching her… and paused to glare at him. Right. So clearly her resentment hadn’t been eased at all by a long bought of sex with her favourite alpha. The thought crossed his mind that the mating could have gone badly, but he instantly dismissed it. Steve had always been a careful and considerate lover, and he had no reason to believe he would have been any different with Liara. No matter how much the idea rankled.

He reached the stables again and set the wheelbarrow down, hefting a bale of hay to feed the horses next… and the front of the bale pressed against the front of his pants as he carried it, causing an instant erection. James swore under his breath. With Steve having spent the last half a day having sex, he was highly unlikely to call on James again for two days, at least. And so James had no outlet for the swirling desires in his head and his body.

And he still wasn’t convinced that Steve would want to mate with him, anyway. A few stray gropes and kisses hardly made it a certainty that mating would have followed. And the ongoing uncertainty and confusion about his own desires and his place in the world were starting to give him a headache…

 

 

The following morning, the sun had yet to dry the dew from the ground when James heard his name called from the doorway of the kitchen. He’d finished breakfast and was preparing for the first of his duties when Steve’s voice broke the relative quiet. And James instantly recognised that husky tone as the one Steve reserved for the bedroom… and yet he immediately dismissed the idea. Steve couldn’t be asking him to mate. He’d not long finished a twelve hour marathon with Liara. He couldn’t want James now, surely?

He followed his master to his bedroom, curious. Steve closed the door, walked over to the bed, beckoned James closer. 

“Hey,” he said softly. “I wanted to ask you something.”

James nodded and waited patiently. Steve was prone to asking him odd questions, things that alphas usually never asked omegas, and he’d gotten over much of his previous apprehension over the conversations. He still didn’t always know quite how to take the man, but he’d accepted the idea that the questions were born of genuine curiosity, rather than any intent to trap or trick James into saying something inappropriate.

“The other day, you said you wanted to mate with me. Do you really want to?” he asked, looking James in the eye, “or are you still worried about your place here?”

For the time being, at least, James was completely comfortable in his role. It might be taken from him soon after the birth, but then, he reminded himself, it was his master’s prerogative to adjust his staff and slaves as he saw fit. And even if he was demoted, that didn’t mean he would be sold again. “I really want to,” James said softly. “I might not be very good at it still, but… I really did enjoy it, when I was in heat. I wanted to… try it again, and see what it was like. I think it would be… better, now. Better than it was before.”

Steve nodded… and James was still working on the assumption that this was merely a private conversation, a chance to clear the air… so he was taken aback when Steve reached out and slid a hand under the hem of his shirt. Calloused fingers met warm skin, and James jumped in surprise. “Take your shirt off,” Steve asked, that husky tone back in his voice, and James finally caught onto the idea of what this was really about. Eager to please, determined that his own hesitation was not going to cause any more miscommunications between them, he stripped off his shirt quickly and dropped it on the floor, waiting as his master looked over his body, feeling his cock begin to show an interest in proceedings. Steve ran his hands down his chest, tweaking a nipple, then down to his hips, around to kneed his ass… and then one slid forward, exploring the front of James’s pants-

“You’re getting hard,” he said, anticipation and a hint of what sounded like joy in his voice, and James nodded, his voice deserting him momentarily. Was he really to have this chance at last? To mate with his alpha and prove himself a worthy omega, one who could get wet and get hard and climax not because of a quirk of physiology, but because he wanted to?

“Take your boots off and lie down,” Steve said, stepping back to strip his shirt off. James did, settling himself on his stomach, though he wasn’t sure how Steve was going to mate with him with his pants still on. 

Steve’s husky laugh caught his attention. “No, I mean lie on your back.” James flipped over, watching with curiosity as Steve sat carefully on the edge of the bed, doffing his boots, his eyes always on James. And he felt suddenly self-conscious about the bump of his belly, small but obvious evidence of his pregnancy. Steve put his hand there first, as if aware of his unease, then slid it down over his groin, down his thighs, then crawled up fully onto the bed, on his hands and knees, leaning over his omega.

“I want to know what you enjoy,” he said softly, before leaning down and kissing his way slowly up James’s torso, his mouth ascending the swell of his belly, lingering at peaked nipples, then up James’s neck until he found his mouth. And yes, James thought, kissing was every bit as good as he remembered it. 

“Tell me what you enjoy,” Steve asked again, and James reached up to tug him down and kiss him again. 

“I like this,” he said a long moment later, having tasted his master thoroughly, with lips and tongue and the lightest brush of teeth.

“Do you?” Steve asked teasingly, and James nodded. 

“What about this?” Steve asked, sliding his hands down over James’s chest. And when he pinched a nipple, James arched up off the bed slightly. 

“Yes. That. More of that.” The fingers lingered, soon to be followed by a playful tongue, and James found himself squirming, aware that his ass was flushed with moisture, feeling the confines of his pants over his erection to be less and less comfortable by the minute. He didn’t have a particularly big penis – it might be considered on the small side, even for an omega – but it was both a relief and an excitement to have it working properly again. And the way he was lying had pulled the fabric tight across his groin, leaving him less room than usual for the appendage.

He didn’t have long to wait, though. Steve slid a hand down and James felt deft fingers opening his pants, a sensation that had brought him unmitigated terror in the past, but now caused only a brief moment of tensing, before he remembered that this was Steve, his gentle, considerate, most unexpected alpha, and he relaxed again… and then tensed all over again as a hand dipped inside his pants and engulfed the hot flesh it found there.

“Fuck, you’re hard…” The hand was squeezing and stroking, and James couldn’t manage much more than a compliant moan in response. Steve tugged the fabric open wider, pulled his pants down slightly over his hips to allow greater access, and then his eyes were back on James’s face, a sharp watchfulness that did nothing to hide his own arousal. “Do you like this?”

James nodded. He wanted more, the slow strokes inflaming his body but doing nothing to relieve the suddenly insistent ache between his legs, and he shifted restlessly, feeling a slick wetness between his ass cheeks.

“What do you want?” Steve asked, and James struggled to find words for the illicit desires running though his head. He wanted Steve’s mouth on his cock, the way it had been during his heat, but no omega in the world would ever ask such a thing of their master. It simply wasn’t done, and he’d been shocked, if delighted, when Steve had done it uninvited during his heat.

“I want to come,” James uttered finally, reaching out to pull Steve closer.

“What else?” Steve prompted, moving up his body, closer to him, his hand staying put in his cock.

“I want to touch you.” It was a poorly phrased desire to make Steve feel as good as James currently did, as hot and distracted and eager to have their bodies intimately joined. But Steve compliantly moved closer, putting his body within reach of James’s hands, and he eagerly set about rediscovering the angles and planes of a body sculpted by hard work and healthy food.

The hand on his groin kept up its slow, steady back-and-forth, until James was panting and thrusting his hips up. And then Steve seemed to finally take pity on him, increasing his speed, tightening his grip… and moments later, James climaxed into his hand, the first time he had done so without a knot inside him in months. He groaned out his pleasure and flopped back on the bed, his hand replacing Steve’s to draw out the aftershocks, and Steve sat back on his heels, looking pleased and expectant, yet with lingering questions in his eyes.

James sat halfway up, his hands already on his own pants, preparing to strip them off to give his master access. “Do you want to-“

“No. Not yet,” Steve said, reaching out to still his hands. “We’re not done yet,” he added, perhaps anticipating the anxiety that his refusal would cause. “I want to know if you liked that.” 

And for all his earlier nonchalance about Steve’s questioning, James found the question incomprehensible. He wasn’t here to enjoy sex, he was here to please his master. And he appreciated the concern for his level of comfort, and his lack of distress, but for an alpha to ask an omega if he had _liked_ it?

“I did,” he said, his voice sounding slightly breathless. But he also now felt a rising anxiety about whether his master had liked it, whether he would find satisfaction inside his body, because that was his ultimate duty, to see his master climax, not to worry about his own pleasure.

“Are you wet?” Steve asked, and James squirmed, all too aware of the slick lubricant seeping from his passage. 

“Yes, sir.”

“Omegas can come more than once, can’t they.” It was said as a statement, and James nodded, momentarily unaware of the implications of his agreement. Steve’s hands were on his body again, sliding over hard muscle, over the meaningful swelling at his middle, lower, to grasp his returning erection. And then Steve did something that had James gasping and jacking himself off the bed in shock, and then a moan escaped his lips, his torso flopping back as his hips flexed off the bed. Steve leant down and engulfed his small cock in his mouth, just as James had imagined him doing, and the pleasure of that wet heat shot straight through his groin to his balls, to his ass, his legs twitching, his hips rocking forward, and god, he dared to put a hand on his master’s head, though whether it was a humble plea for more, or an illicit demand, he didn’t know. Suction, a wet tongue moving up and down, hands at his hips, and James was aware of his pants hanging around his thighs, slowly working their way lower. 

The mouth on him was in no hurry, slow, lazy strokes up and down, and his ass clenched with the need for something to fill it. One of his hands stole down, sneaking behind his hip, hopefully out of his master’s notice, and he pressed a finger into his own ass, moaning at the sensation as he thrust it in and out, feeling his own wetness, his own muscles tighten around his finger. 

And then he came again, into his master’s mouth, shocked that he would be allowed such an indiscretion. And by the time he came back to himself, he knew that his master was more than aware of where his hand was, of the fact that he had been fingering himself, but Steve didn’t seem the slightest bit phased by his wanton desire. 

“Did you like that?” What the hell was it with these meaningless questions? 

“More,” James murmured, overloaded with sensation. “I want you inside me.” And fucking hell, he now noticed what he had missed before, which was that Steve had opened his own pants and was stroking himself, his cock large and red and throbbing, seeping fluid at the tip. “Want you,” James repeated, squirming to get his pants off the rest of the way. Steve helpfully assisted, tugging them down his legs and then tossing them away onto the floor, then he pulled back and got rid of his own pants, and James moved to roll over, but a single word from Steve stopped him. 

“No.” 

James froze. Was his master not going to mate him? Was all this pleasure and anticipation for nothing-

“I want to take you like this.” Steve parted James’s legs, moved up between them and hoisted his hips up to meet the tip of his erection. “I want to see everything you feel in your face,” he insisted, his cock teasing James’s opening in a way that was utterly maddening. He wanted it _inside_ , hot pressure and throbbing sensation, not this teasing hint of what it would feel like.

“Yes!” James agreed. Whatever his master wanted, just so long as it resulted in a hard, thick knot pressing into the walls of his passage, just so long as he could come again. And possibly again.

Steve pressed in slowly, his cock a thick, hot pressure that stretched James just to the amicable side of pain, stretched him wide and full, then withdrew, and thrust in again. He tried to rock his hips in time with Steve’s but the sensations had his legs trembling and his hands gripping the sheets spasmodically, and he simply gave himself up to the rhythm, feeling his climax build and build… and then Steve’s knot swelled, his essence a hot, wet burst inside James’s body, and he came again as the position pressed the knot against his passage in a totally unexpected way. 

James was aware of time passing, aware of his body lying limp against the sheets, aware of a hot pressure in his ass and the numbness in his legs, and more aware than ever of the swell of his pregnancy, his belly protruding more than usual, given the way his lower body was propped up against his master’s thighs, and he absently ran a hand over his stomach, wondering how long it would be before Steve lost interest in him, his body swollen beyond what he found attractive. The Duke had refused to mate him past the fourth month, when he started showing in earnest, but apparently Steve had a greater tolerance of such things. But he knew he had another month, maybe two at the most, to convince Steve that he was a satisfying lay, before the alpha would seek more attractive partners in the house-mates, finding his swollen body too clumsy and cumbersome.

He glanced up, finding Steve staring down at him with hooded eyes, looking both supremely satisfied, and pleasantly tired. “Good?” he asked, and James felt a ridiculous smile plaster itself to his lips. He slid his hand lower, to stroke his own cock, thought whether he was milking the end of his last orgasm, or building up to another, it was impossible to tell. 

“I liked that,” he said honestly, and the small, amused smirk on his master’s face was priceless. He felt a hand stroking his belly, lingering directly over the bulge of the pregnancy, and James felt a flash of uncertainty. He’d already considered what might happen if this was his last chance to be a breeding omega, if he was demoted and replaced after the birth, and he felt a sharp stab of regret… and just as quickly banished the thought. He had five months left, five months to prove his worth, either in the bedroom, or as a producer of quality children, and he was going to live solidly in the present for those five months. The future could take care of itself.

Steve shifted his hips then, pressing the knot tighter against his passage, and James felt his cock twitch and swell.

“Again?” Steve asked, and James’s eyes opened a little wider. Four orgasms in one sitting? Aside from during his heats, he’d never come close to that before.

“Please…”

Steve’s hand replaced his own over his cock, the knot was pressed deeper, harder, and suddenly James was seeing stars, coming all over his master’s hand, his body trembling, crying out in startled pleasure. 

Steve made a sound of satisfaction as James relaxed again, almost as if _he_ had been the one to come, and James let his eyes close, safe in the knowledge that his alpha was pleased with him, perhaps for the first time since his arrival at the estate. Steve made no sense, in so many ways, his quirks presenting challenge after challenge to James’s ingrained way of thinking. But for the first time in a long time, the future held promise. 

The knot deflated slowly, and Steve pulled out, then lay down beside him, tucking him close against his body. There were horses to be fed, manure to be shoveled, and the abundant tasks of summer to be seen to. But just for now, James thought to himself, he could lie in bed with his master and doze, limbs heavy and body sated, and know that he was an omega of worth.


	16. Chapter 16

Barely 24 hours had past before Steve next sought out his omega, memories of the previous day making him hard and ready. It had been a revelation and a triumph to see James so eager and willing, giving voice to his own desires probably for the first time in his life. And even as he reveled in the uniqueness of his developing relationship with the man, Steve also felt a lingering sorrow and guilt over the rest of his omegas. He’d never asked them what they liked in bed, or even whether they liked sex at all. How many of them were suffering as James had? How many of them would have liked the choice to refuse, or to express their opinion on the matter?

With a shake of his head, Steve put the melancholy thoughts out of his mind for the time being. Change was needed here, but he didn’t have the power to change the entire world. He made sure the betas and any visiting alphas were gentle with the house-mates, and that was more than most masters did. He would have liked a better solution, but the concept of a free omega had not yet entered the world, nor would it for several generations. Change was still a long way off.

With his mind back on his pregnant omega and his recent willingness in the bedroom, Steve knew that this time of the morning James would be in the stables. And sure enough, there he was, his muscles flexing as he pitched hay into a new stall. James heard him coming and turned to face him, but Steve was quicker, sliding up behind him and holding him in place, his hands on his hips. A kiss to his neck, a light nibble, then he let go and murmured into his ear, “Turn around.” James did, and then Steve was kissing him, pressing him up against the wall, his knee between James’s legs, feeling his small erection slowly harden…

But something was wrong. Rather than returning the kiss, James was stiff, tense, not resisting, but certainly lacking the eagerness of yesterday. And with a knot in his gut, Steve backed off.

“What’s wrong?” he asked gently. And please, god, let him not have gotten this completely and utterly wrong. He’d honestly thought James had enjoyed the day before, had been a willing participant. Had he misread the entire situation? Or had he been too rough and made James sore?

“I had thought… I’d expected you to…” Words seemed to have failed his cautious, tentative omega again.

“I thought you enjoyed yesterday,” Steve said, his voice carefully neutral.

“I did!” James insisted immediately. “But we’re standing in a stable with three betas wandering around outside…”

And until he’d said so, Steve hadn’t noticed. But sure enough, there were footsteps outside, the low murmur of voices, and amusingly enough, one of the horses watching them with curiosity, and Steve felt an odd, bursting sensation in his chest as he realised something that he had never picked up on before.

His rough, violent, disobedient omega was shy! 

“And if we were in private?” Steve asked, needing to hear it straight from the source-

“I enjoyed yesterday,” James said, his voice sounding slightly breathless. 

Steve cleared his throat. “Then you’d better come up to my bedroom.”

He led the way at a quick pace, aware of James right behind him. He’d barely closed the door when James was in his arms, their mouths pressed together, a rough whimper drawn from his lover as Steve slid a hand down, relieved and aroused to feel the stiff length of his modest erection. 

Steve had no idea what had possessed him to take that length in his mouth yesterday. It was something he’d never done with any other omega, not even during their heats, but James seemed to have liked it so much that his mouth was watering to try it again. 

He steered James towards the bed and stripped the man’s shirt off, feeling his cock throb as the evidence of his pregnancy was revealed once again. He could imagine what James would look like in a few more months, belly rounded out in a sexy bulge, his body just as lean as it was now, and he looked forward to mating him then…

But perhaps he wouldn’t want to be mated, he realised with a flush. He had no idea what a pregnancy felt like – maybe mating was uncomfortable and omegas preferred to be left alone for the later months. James hadn’t expressed any discomfort about it yesterday, so he assumed that at this early stage, mating was still acceptable.

“Take your pants off,” he said, hearing the lust in his own voice, and he did the same with his own, eagerly joining James on the bed as he sat down and shifted over.

But for all his intentions to pleasure the heck out of his omega, he just had to kiss him first, that mouth open and panting and demanding attention. And James’s tongue met his, a slick dance that had Steve moaning and longing to be thrusting inside him already-

No. One thing at a time. He pressed James back and slid down his body, stroking his cock a few times before applying more adventurous techniques. He was small, maybe about three and a half inches long, and Steve deliberately slid the entire length of him into his mouth. James swore and grabbed at the sheets, and then Steve was astonished as he felt the omega come immediately. He swallowed, not objecting to the bitter taste – after all, if he didn’t want to taste him, he shouldn’t be putting his mouth on his cock – and hearing the moans of pleasure from his partner just revved Steve up all the more. He slid a hand down to James’s passage, finding him wet and open, and James spread his legs wider.

But the position he had chosen yesterday hadn’t looked particularly comfortable for James, his back twisted at an odd angle, and though it had been important to see his face then, Steve needing assurance that he wasn’t taking anything James was unwilling to give, he knew it would be much more comfortable for both of them if he took the omega from behind.

“Roll over,” he said, “onto your side.”

James did, then took his own ass cheek in hand and exposed himself to Steve’s view, and fuck, that was just the sexiest thing in the whole world. Steve quickly shifted up close behind him, his own cock in his hand, lining up the head with James’s opening. He was far less tight now than he had been the first time Steve had tried mating him, but even so he took things slowly, pressing in, pulling out, repeating the move a little deeper, until James was pushing back against him and palming his own cock. Steve wanted this to last, loving the feel of James’s skin sliding against his own, the slowly gathering sheen of sweat, the heat radiating off both of them. He loved the slick feel of his passage, the knowledge that yes, James really was enjoying this, because he’d proven time and again that his body wouldn’t lubricate itself if he wasn’t. 

James said something in Spanish then, what could either have been a curse or a plea, and Steve resolved to learn a little of the language. He’d never heard James speak it for any length of time, and it sounded beautiful, full of passion and life.

Too soon for Steve’s liking he felt his own climax building, lacking the will power to pull away and draw things out, and he thrust quickly, short, sharp snaps of his hip that had James climaxing even before his knot swelled, and then again, after it reached its full size.

They lay together, both panting, Steve’s leg pressed between James’s and his arm slung over his waist. He slid his hand down, feeling the slight bulge in James’s abdomen, and stroked it gently. 

His first child. His first chance at contributing to the population of the estate and securing its future for another generation. It was a heavy responsibility, the need for males, for alphas a pressing one. He just hoped he was a strong enough alpha to provide the heirs the estate needed.

 

When James returned to the stable half an hour later he ran into Henry, heading for the orchard, and the older omega gave him a low whistle. “Christ, James, you’ve stirred up a hornet’s nest. Liara’s been cursing black and blue since dawn, and everybody else is just ducking for cover.”

“What have I done now?” The question was asked with a lazy disinterest. He’d liked Liara, tried to get along with her, but her insistence on resenting him over injuries which were not his own fault was becoming tedious.

“The contraceptive tea. After her heat, the master sat her down, made the tea himself, and watched her drink it.”

Fuck. The last thing James had ever wanted to do was cause trouble with the other omegas, and if they were now all suspect for-

“The rest of us don’t care, but I’m fairly sure that ever since she found out what you’d done, she was planning on a little stunt of her own, if you know what I mean? The master’s new policy put a spanner in the works for her own little promotion, so don’t be surprised if she puts chili in your stew, or mixes up the salt with the sugar for your tea.”

“I don’t even drink tea,” James complained, rolling his eyes. “And god, doesn’t she realise what a stupid idea that would be? Getting deliberately pregnant?”

“Didn’t you?” Henry asked, and James merely sighed. He’d come to terms with his own poor choices long ago.

“I wasn’t aiming to get promoted,” he started to explain, sounding tired and fed up to his own ears, but Henry merely waved him off. 

“Don’t worry. Like I said, no one else cares. We’ve all got good homes here, kind alphas, a secure future ahead of us. And contrary to your apparent opinion of us, we’re not all soft in the head from the coddling. We’ve seen enough of how omegas are treated out in the big, wide world to appreciate what we’ve got here. But Liara…”

“Liara was taught to expect better things, and she sees me as having taken them away from her.” To his surprise, James’s assessment of the girl held very little bitterness. As Carolyn said before, it was a sharp jolt to go from potential breeding omega to common house mate, and he suspected that Liara was still young and inexperienced enough to not really appreciate how good it was here. But he couldn’t hold that against her. It had taken him months to work out the blessings of this estate himself, to realise that the alphas were kind and generous people with good intentions toward everyone here, both servant and slave.

“Don’t be too hard on her,” he said to Henry. “Don’t you remember what it was like to be nineteen?”

At that, Henry smiled, a wistful expression that made James wonder just what he’d been like as a younger boy. “Fair enough,” Henry said. “But I stand on my warning. If you get food poisoning, don’t say you weren’t warned.”

 

Two months passed in the blink of an eye, the summer work schedule relentless. James did his regular chores in the stables, then helped herd the sheep, wrote down figures as Mordin sorted the wool – who would have guessed that his education would be paying dividends now! – helped pick the fruit harvest and sorted the crop, all of the omegas delighted whenever Steve happened past, as he would invariably select a fresh, ripe specimen and slice it into pieces, allowing the omegas to share the bounty. 

Steve also made sure that James was a regular visitor to the main house, and to Steve’s bed chamber in particular, lazy mornings and passionate nights filling the last of James’s schedule. 

And all the while his belly swelled, the child growing, kicking and keeping him awake, making him wonder when Steve would stop asking him into his bedroom, when he would finally be taken off stable duty and assigned to something less physical. 

In the Duke’s house, he’d been put on light duties from the very day he finished his heat. It had seemed overly cautious to James… until he’d gone through his first birth, and spent the next week lying in bed bleeding, aching, bruised and swollen. But in the Cortez estate, there were less than half the total number of people, not enough hands to do all the work in the busiest times as it was, and they could hardly afford to have him sitting around folding laundry when the financial viability of the estate depended on having all hands on deck.

But finally, just as he passed the six month mark on his pregnancy, Steve pulled him aside and told him he’d been taken off stable duty and was to take over Liara’s role in the kitchen. A slight reshuffle had half a dozen people shifted around to cover all the work, with Henry taking over the stables until after the birth.

That same night, Steve called him to his bed again, and the mating could only be called beautiful, long and slow and sensual in a way that James had never experienced, even with this most unexpected alpha. And still he wondered when Steve would stop mating with him. James himself was still eager for him, and had begun to suspect that this pregnancy would go the way of his second, the waves of hormones unbalancing the fragile equilibrium of his body… but it was too early to tell yet. 

Three days later, Steve came into the kitchen, wanting to know about the fruit harvest, and found James sitting in a chair, sprawled backwards, looking most uncomfortable. James looked up at his master, knowing that there would be no question about his current lack of activity, but rather a raised eyebrow that invited a sensible explanation, and he opened his mouth to reply to the unasked question when he felt another kick, right up under his ribs, and winced, pressing a hand to his belly to try and convince the child to go and move somewhere else. A futile exercise, but after half an hour of this, he was losing patience with it.

“What’s wrong?” Steve was instantly all concern and compassion, taking a seat beside James.

“It’s kicking,” James said simply. “He’s been using my ribs as battering-ram practice for the last half hour.”

Steve looked bemused. “Kicking?”

“Yeah.”

“But it’s tiny. How can that hurt?” There was no censure in his tone for excessive complaints about the issue, just a genuine curiosity and naivety, and without thinking, James pulled his shirt up, took Steve’s hand and pressed it to the spot. There was a pause… and then Steve’s eyes opened wide.

“Oh my goodness… I felt that! That’s incredible…” The baby kicked again, and James was amused at the utter astonishment on his master’s face.

“Yeah, incredible,” he said dryly. “But half an hour later… not so much.”

So far, even after all their time in the bedroom, Steve had never been in the right place at the right time to feel this. He sat with rapt attention as the baby kicked again, then looked up, catching the amusement in James’s expression as he watched his master discover this new aspect of life.

But far from drawing back in embarrassment, Steve instead slid to the floor in front of him, settling on his knees and pushed James’s shirt all the way up, exposing his belly fully. Then he planted his hands on either side of the bulge, rubbing gently, looking pleased and proud and mischievous all at the same time. And James laughed, setting his belly wobbling and drawing a chuckle from his master. He might have said something next; James imagining he could see the poignant thoughts forming in his master’s expression, but the door opened and Mordin came in, brightening for a split second as he saw Steve, then freezing, as he realised that he was most likely interrupting something.

Steve stood up and James pulled his shirt down, hefting himself out of the chair and getting back to his duties, and Steve started discussing the number of crates and weights and volumes with the estate’s most experienced harvester. 

 

“I’m an alpha!”

James heard the plaintive cry as he was waiting for Steve one morning, standing patiently in the main hall, needing to deliver the news that mildew had gotten into last season’s potatoes and wheat stocks were running low. The estate didn’t generally trade in wheat, growing barely enough for their own needs, and shortages before the next harvest were common.

“You’re not an alpha until I say you are,” Frank returned sharply, denying David’s heartfelt request. “You’re not done maturing yet.”

“It’s six inches long,” David insisted, and James blushed, aware that he was inadvertently prying on a private and sacred ritual. David must have been enduring his weekly measuring session, and like many young men, thought he could push for a particular outcome against his master’s wishes.

“It’s not quite six inches, and beside which, I’ve known omegas with six inch cocks,” Frank said flatly. “It’s too early to prove anything.” It was only two months since the boy had flared for the first time, and the flashes of gold in his eyes had become a regular occurrence. The other children had started avoiding him, aware that he was no longer a child, but not at all sure whether he was to become their new master, or their new slave. It was a lonely, isolating time, making the stress of puberty all the more difficult.

But to have grown to six inches in two months was quite an achievement, and James knew that it was a fairly firm indication that the boy would be an alpha. And in all honesty, it was hard to begrudge him the satisfaction of learning his own gender. Given the choice, James would certainly have chosen that over his current situation – no matter how good and kind a master he currently had.

Predictably, the door opened not long afterwards, but James had already turned away, standing on the far side of the hall, eyes fixed on the stairs, so that David could sneak past him without any embarrassment at having been overheard by the estate’s most prominent omega. The front door slammed a moment later, and then James began to feel the need to go to the bathroom. Again.

The sharp tap-tap-tap of footsteps on stairs brought his attention up, seeing his master descending that stairs rapidly, but Steve looked harried and impatient. He saw James and pulled to a stop. 

“Is it urgent?” he asked, and James knew that if he said yes, he would have his master’s full attention, no matter what crisis was currently demanding his attention. 

But some moldy potatoes were hardly a disaster, and he clipped out a short “No, sir.”

“I’ve been called to Paris,” he said, explaining his current state of distress, and his attire – James noticed belatedly that he was dressed for riding, and a moment later, Carolyn dashed into the hall holding a small bag, which she handed to Steve. “Alistair is… in trouble,” Steve said, with no shortage of disdain. “Frank isn’t… Frank can’t go. I might be a week or two,” he said, his tone apologetic, even as he pulled on his riding gloves and Henry appeared in the doorway to take his bag, disappearing outside with it to no doubt strap it to the horse. “Mordin will manage the estate while I’m away,” James told Carolyn. “Frank’s coming down with a cough and shouldn’t be disturbed unless it’s absolutely necessary. But make sure he has plenty of tea and some whiskey and lemon. It’ll clear his chest.”

“Yes, sir,” Carolyn said, opening the front door for him to leave. But instead of exiting the building, Steve turned to James, put a gentle hand on his belly, and pressed a gentler kiss to his lips. “I’ll see you when I get back.”

And then he was gone, leaving James with a nostalgic longing and an ache in his chest.

He had to find Mordin, he reminded himself, as he heard rapid hoof beats racing away. There was a crate of potatoes covered in mold to be seen to.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a small note: I don’t speak any Spanish. The tiny amount of Spanish I use in this fic is courtesy of google’s language translator, which is not always accurate, so apologies to anyone who actually speaks Spanish if I’m using the wrong words here.

In the end, Steve was away for four weeks. And in the intervening days, James discovered that this pregnancy was indeed a replica of his second one with the Duke. Which wouldn’t have been so bad if Steve was here and could be persuaded to take him to bed on occasion, but as things stood, it was an absolute nightmare.

He kept himself busy in the kitchen, working hard to try and exhaust himself, then spent the evenings chasing sleep, his body uncooperative and the lack of privacy galling. In the Duke’s estate he’d been kept in a private bedroom, allowing him to see to the unusual demands of his body while keeping his pride intact. But while he was sleeping in a room with seven other people, privacy was non-existent, and he was forced to endure the aches, the hot flushes, the sleepless nights in silence.

Finally, as summer was drawing to a close and the first cold winds of autumn were beginning to sweep over the land, the clop of horse’s hooves broke the morning quiet, and James rushed out of the kitchen to see Steve pulling up tiredly in front of the house. He rushed over, as quickly as his by now very pregnant body would allow, but every other staff member on the estate seemed to have the same idea.

Steve saw him coming and flashed him a heartfelt, though tired smile, and then he was trying to answer a thousand questions about his trip and Alistair and listen to a hundred declarations on how good it was to have him home again.

But one member of the estate was demanding more attention than all the others, and the staff stood back, allowing him to take centre stage, a strange shift in social dynamics underway. Young David rushed forward, embraced Steve, and loudly declared, “I’m an alpha!”

Steve was visibly surprised, but he hid it quickly behind a delighted smile. “That’s wonderful. When-?”

“Frank announced it yesterday. It’s three months early, but he said there’s no point waiting. So I’m your brother now, right?” he asked eagerly. 

Steve seemed a little overwhelmed by the news. “Right,” he agreed, after a pause. “That you are.” 

The lines of succession were notoriously complex for alphas, taking into consideration birth order, the status of the omega who had birthed an alpha, the status of the father, any brothers or cousins and their respective roles in the family, and the invariably complicated issue of adoption. In this case, Steve had been adopted as first alpha, and would forever retain his role as next in line to be master of the house. David, however, would not become first alpha until or unless Steve failed to sire a new alpha son. That, of course, wouldn’t be known for anything up to twenty years from now, so David would simply become a resident alpha of the estate, but with the proviso that he might, at some point in time, actually inherit the estate. 

If, on the other hand, one of the younger children had been born of a bonded omega, and one of those children became an alpha, they would automatically out-rank David as next in line.

In some ways, James reflected, it was a blessing that this estate had so few alphas. It made the decisions about succession and breeding so much simpler.

He hadn’t yet heard the news about David, and the ruling wouldn’t be official until the local Baron visited to examine the boy and confirmed the master’s determination. But that wasn’t holding David back in reveling in his newfound status.

What it did mean, however, was that his own urgent needs to spend some time with Steve would have to wait. Perhaps he could secure ten minutes in the wash room alone. That might take the edge off, at least…

 

 

Steve trudged tiredly into the house. Alistair had made a right mess this time, mating with the personal omega of an Earl, a lovely young girl of nineteen. Execution had been suggested, though no one took the threat seriously, but the man’s unrepentant attitude hadn’t helped the situation. In the end, a large monetary payment had not been enough to quell the Earl’s anger, and Alistair had been forced to spend a week in jail. Steve had dutifully visited him every day, bringing him food and a bucket of water to wash in, and he’d written daily letters to Frank’s brother, updating him on the situation. At the end of the week, he’d seen Alistair safely away from Paris and back into his father’s care, Alfred saying nothing, but handing him a letter which offered deep and sincere apologies and thanks to both Steve and Frank for their assistance. 

Now, he was exhausted, wanting nothing more than to catch up with his father, then his very pregnant omega, and then sleep the afternoon away. But this young scrap of a boy was bouncing around his study, waxing lyrical about how marvelous it was to be an alpha, and how he had known all along that he wasn’t destined to be a slave, and all Steve really wanted to do was slap the boy and send him away.

But thankfully he was paying enough attention to catch a throw-away comment, one that could have gotten the boy into serious trouble.

“This means I can mate with the housemates, right? I want to have sex! I have a knot! And Liara’s so beautiful-“

“Whoa, slow down. Enough!” Steve yelled. He hadn’t even heard how his father was yet, whether he’d recovered from his cough or whether it had developed into something more serious, and the boy was talking about mating with Liara??

“No!” he said indignantly. “No, you do not get to mate with Liara! No, you’re not officially an alpha yet, and you won’t be until the Baron visits, and no, you don’t have a knot yet, and you won’t for another year at least, and if you really need to mate with someone, then mate with Helen. She’s old enough to teach you a few things and wise enough to not put up with any rubbish!”

David stared at him in shock, mouth open, face pale… and then the shock vanished. “Are you serious? I can mate with Helen?”

“Yes,” Steve agreed, just to get him out of the room, and then David was gone, racing away across the estate, searching out the house-mate who was, thankfully, experienced enough to know what to do with a young boy with too much ego and not enough patience.

Steve headed for his father’s sitting room, relieved to find him out of bed and sitting by the fire with a cup of tea by his side. “Steve! Welcome home.” Steve leaned down to embrace him, relieved all over again to feel the strength of his grip.

“How are you? Over your cough?”

“Oh, that? That went away weeks ago. Carolyn’s a very attentive nurse. And that Mordin! He’s a miracle worker! We have a better crop this year than any time in the past ten years. The wool’s been sent off to the buyers and we should be receiving a very healthy income this season. I’ve had hardly anything to do while you’ve been away.”

It was a gross understatement, Steve knowing exactly how much work his father did, writing to local traders and buyers, negotiating sales, buying new breeding rams for the flock and managing the betas all the while – but it was a relief to know that the betas had been pulling their weight and ensuring things were done well, and done on time.

“And how’s that omega of yours,” Frank asked, a glint in his eye.

“I haven’t seen him yet,” Steve admitted. “Not to talk to, at least. I saw him by the door as I came in.”

“Ah,” Frank said knowingly, in a way that made Steve just a touch nervous. “He’s very pregnant,” he added, stating the obvious, which was not his habit, and so Steve was instantly suspicious.

“And?”

“And I don’t know for sure,” Frank went on, taking a nonchalant sip of his tea, “but I suspect he’s got the same condition Josephine had during her last pregnancy. I’d talk to him about that,” he suggested. “Sooner, rather than later.”

 

 

James was both relieved and embarrassed to be called to the main house, not even an hour after Steve had arrived home. He headed into the sitting room, where Carolyn had told him Steve was waiting, self-conscious about his pregnancy, and yet longing to see his master. He’d grown significantly in the last month, his belly popping out in front and no matter what shirt he wore, it didn’t seem sufficient to properly cover the bulge. 

He knocked on the door, then opened it when Steve called, and then he was completely unable to hide the grin that plastered itself to his face. 

“Welcome home,” he said, knowing it would sound slightly odd. Omegas were not sufficiently elevated to be worthy of welcoming anyone anywhere, but from his master’s smile, he knew the sentiment was well received. 

“How are you?” Steve asked, kissing him lightly, hand on his belly, and James felt a tremor run through him, one that he tried to ignore. 

“I’m well. Tired, some of the time. Getting bigger by the day.”

Steve stroked his belly, and James bit his lip. “My father… he said… well, I’m not sure what he said, exactly. He said that when Josephine – our last breeding omega – had her last pregnancy, she had a condition that affected her health. And he said that he thought you had the same condition.”

James felt his cock swell, entirely against his will, and then felt himself flush with embarrassment. So Frank had noticed. Not surprising, given that he was an alpha, but that didn’t necessarily mean anyone else had noticed…

“Did he say what the condition was?”

“No. I was hoping you could tell me. Are you alright?” he asked again, concern showing on his face.

“It’s… I’m not sure what it’s called in France,” James hedged. “I had it during my second pregnancy as well. In Spain we called it nino-celo, the child-heat. It’s, um…”

He had a vivid recollection of exactly what it was. The rampant hormones of pregnancy sometime sent the omega’s body into a mock-heat state, sexual arousal becoming almost a permanent thing. And with his master refusing to mate him, James had been driven to long hours of frantic masturbation, stroking himself to completion again and again, desperate to relieve the ache inside himself. In the end, he’d taken the largest carrot he could find from the kitchen and spent long nights shoving the thing up his ass again and again, desperate for both sleep, and relief.

Not that he wanted to admit any of that to his current master.

“It’s… embarrassing,” he said finally, aware of his erection tenting his pants, aware of the slick rush of moisture coating his ass. Embarrassing? Really? His master owned his body, could do anything to it that he liked…

“What is it?” Steve asked gently, and the desire to mate with him was so strong that James gave in and decided to just blurt it out.

“It’s a pseudo-heat,” he said, eyes down, talking fast. “The hormones make an omega… want sex all the time. Like during a heat. It’s not as bad as that, but… it’s difficult to deal with, if the master won’t mate with the omega, and I’ve… it started about a week after you left, and-“

“Wait, wait… hang on. You’re saying you’re… you’re sort of in heat?”

“Kind of.”

“And I’ve been away, and you haven’t…”

“No.”

“What have you been doing?”

If it was possible to get redder, then James did. “I’ve been… trying to control it-“

“Wait, back up a minute… what do you mean, if the master won’t mate with the omega?”

“My master didn’t. When I had this before, he didn’t mate with me.”

“Why not?”

Again with the awkward questions. Why couldn’t he have a master who simply accepted his explanation and started stripping his pants off so they could go at it like bunnies in spring…

“He didn’t like…” Shit, he wanted Steve to mate with him so much, and to tell him that another alpha had refused to do so, had found his pregnant body utterly unattractive, was only going to give Steve the excuse he needed to refuse him. “He refused to mate me while I was pregnant. After I started showing. He thought my belly was ugly.”

James still had his eyes on the floor, so he had no idea what Steve’s reaction was. But his body was responding to the nearness of his alpha, and he felt liquid seeping not just from his ass, but from his cock as well, making a wet spot on the front of his pants-

“Come upstairs,” Steve ordered, his voice sounding tight. James followed, too overwhelmed to even think about whether he was going to get mated or not.

Steve led him to his bedroom and closed the door, then turned and put his hand squarely over James’s erection. And to his utter mortification, he came immediately, just from that light contact.

“Come here.” 

James complied, letting Steve strip off his shirt, his pants, his boots, aware of his ungainly appearance. He was led to the bed, helped to lie down, and he lay on his side, feeling large and clumsy and so very uncomfortable-

Steve was behind him in an instant, fingers probing his ass, then carefully inserting his cock up inside, and James moaned, feeling full, his belly feeling tight, his nerves raw and his cock springing up for attention despite having climaxed mere moments ago.

And the feel of that slick, hot length fucking him was sublime, easing the ache for the first time in weeks, James’s body easing down from its tense, frantic high to a more tolerable middle ground. Which would be fine, if Steve could just keep fucking him for the duration of his pregnancy. He came again a few minutes later, long before Steve climaxed and knotted him, and then again, in sync with Steve’s orgasm. The knot swelled, fitting into his body in a way that still had him thanking whatever deity was watching that Steve was his master, and then he came again, sagging limply into the mattress in the aftermath.

He felt a hand stroking his belly, and then his master’s words, soft and husky, right beside his ear. “I think your body is absolutely beautiful,” he said. 

James wanted to reply, wanted to think of an eloquent way to thank his master for his consideration and care, but his body was reacting strangely to the pressure inside it. He’d been knotted dozens of times, was more than familiar with the sensation… but this time, it felt different. He shifted, careful not to tug on the knot, but not at all sure about the tight, hot sensation inside his passage. 

“Shh, lie still,” Steve admonished him gently, and he tried… but soon his breathing was kicking up a notch, his body tensing, his cock swelling…

“Um, I think you’re… You’re pressing on something,” he complained lightly. He was going to climax again, though he’d thought his body was sated for the time being. “Can you, um… Oh, fuck…” He came quickly, unexpectedly, panting as his essence spurted out across the sheets, and he heard Steve swear behind him.

“Sorry. Here…” He felt the alpha shift around, easing the pressure on his passage, and he gave a groan of appreciation. “Better?”

“Yeah.”

At least, he thought it was. The lingering sparks of sensation faded away… and then began to build up again. And before long his cock was swelling, his passage clenching down on the cock inside it. “Steve…” His breath was coming fast, his body gearing up for another unstoppable, uncontrollable orgasm, and he cried out, a sound almost of distress as his body continued its recent trend of disobeying him completely, and he came again, his nerves raw and overly sensitive.

“Fuck… are you okay?” Steve asked, worried, and James honestly wasn’t sure. He wasn’t in pain, certainly, but the flood of sensation was becoming rather overwhelming, and he lay limply, panting, as he tried to get his thoughts together. He felt slightly euphoric, almost like being drunk, and he didn’t know whether he wanted to come again, or for this all to stop immediately.

The decision was made for him as Steve’s knot deflated, and he withdrew as soon as he was able. “Shit, what the hell happened there?”

James rubbed his belly, feeling both sated and horny at the same time. “S’was good,” he slurred, sighing deeply. His alpha, at home, fucking him senseless, his belly swollen and the ache in his ass finally gone. “I liked this.” Steve had worried about what he liked, he remembered dimly, and he wanted to let him know that this was definitely on the list. “Tired now.”

“Get some sleep,” Steve said, sounding more than a little weary himself. “Just rest. We’ll figure this out tomorrow.”


	18. Chapter 18

“Spontaneous orgasms?” Steve repeated incredulously.

“Yes,” Frank replied, sounding put out and fed up. “They have them from around the sixth month to the end of the pregnancy. Josephine refused to see reason, insisted that she enjoyed it, but such a thing can’t be good for them. It’s too much stress on the body, too much pressure on the child. I refused to mate her after the sixth month. And I’d suggest you do the same.”

“James seemed to enjoy it,” Steve said, confused by his father’s refusal. Surely-

“A five year old child will insist that they enjoy eating three pounds of chocolate cake,” Frank said impatiently. “That doesn’t mean it’s good for them. And when I said you should talk to James about this, I didn’t mean you should go and mate with him! I meant to explain to him why this shouldn’t be happening.”

Steve stared at his father in flabbergasted confusion… and then quickly schooled his expression to one of calm consideration. “I see,” he said, in a most reasonable tone. “I misunderstood. Thank you for the advice.”

He excused himself from the room and immediately headed upstairs to his bedroom. His father had explained the whole episode, the mock-heat, the way James had seemed unable to stop coming – apparently that was something to do with the pressure the child placed on the abdomen, which in turn increased the pressure on the knot – there was only so much space in a human body, after all – the result being that the alpha’s knot pressed that much more firmly against the omega’s nerves and caused repeated and insuppressible orgasms.

Not that James had been complaining…

Steve thought back over the episode, James’s embarrassment at his insistent arousal, but at the same time it had seemed almost painful. He’d said he’d been trying to control the situation while Steve was away, but he had neglected to ask for details on what exactly that meant. And to refuse to mate him altogether? Given that his previous master had also refused, on the grounds that he found James’s body ugly, Steve could only see that route as damaging their relationship – something he had no intention of allowing to happen, given that they were finally on good terms, mating, talking, relaxing in each other’s company. And to leave an omega in that condition was almost as bad as leaving one in heat unmated, wasn’t it?

Despite his affection for Josephine, Frank still had fairly traditional views about the role of an omega – something that had come across clearly by his insistence that she’d had no more sense than the average five year old. Even allowing for a little hyperbole, it was a very one-sided relationship, and Steve wondered how much that had had to do with her refusal to bond with him. If he’d allowed her a more equal footing, then maybe she would have begun to return his affection-

Oh, shit. Steve pulled himself up short. He was not thinking that… But fuck, yes, he was. He was thinking in terms of what was most likely to make James bond with him. He immediately remembered his father’s warning, months ago, that he was developing strong feelings for the omega. And it was true, he admitted to himself. He was finding the restrictions between alphas and omegas more and more inconvenient, longing to treat James more as an equal. He already treated him with the respect usually reserved for betas. 

But James would not bond with him, he told himself firmly. He’d been abused, found it too hard to trust, too hard to relax in the company of an alpha to ever actually bond with one. Despite his best efforts to engage the man, to reassure him, Steve had to resign himself to the imposing distance between master and slave, regardless of their bedroom intimacy…

And oh, fucking hell… God, he was a complete idiot, Steve suddenly realised. He closed his eyes and felt like beating his head against the wall. His father had told him that if a couple wanted to bond, then fidelity was required, an exclusive commitment to each other to the exclusion of all others… but the same day that James had come to him, wanting to deepen their relationship, showing the first signs of trust in a long time, he’d turned tail and gone to mate with Liara.

God, he was an idiot. If that wasn’t a firm and clear declaration that he wasn’t available, then he didn’t know what was. He’d never asked James what he thought of the mating, had never considered his actions anything out of the ordinary-

And he was still thinking in terms of bonding with his breeding omega, Steve admonished himself mentally. He couldn’t force the man to bond with him, shouldn’t even be considering the idea, given his background. 

But there was no way he was letting him see out the rest of his pregnancy without being mated, Steve decided firmly. So long as James wanted to have sex, then Steve would provide it. And if he wanted to stop, then Steve would stop. 

He chuckled darkly to himself. Now all he had to do was convince James to tell him what he actually wanted.

 

“James… Steve listens to you, right?” Helen said softly, as she took a seat next to him at dinner.

“I suppose so,” he said, sensing a trap in the question.

“Can you talk to him about something?”

James gave her a dry look. “Presumably something I’m not supposed to be saying, given the fact that you don’t want to talk to him yourself?”

Helen shrugged and made a non-committal sound. “It’s not… He’s not… David’s not an alpha yet. Not officially. So I could say something, but… he’s… it’s just…”

“What’s David done?” James asked immediately. He knew that the boy had mated with Helen four times since Steve had arrived home, quite the enthusiastic effort, given that only three days had passed since then, and he’d noticed the change in attitude in the boy since then. He’d started ordering the omegas around, asking them to do things for him, started strutting around the other children, and James saw all the makings of the worst kind of alpha. Alphas tended to go one of two ways, if it was possible to generalize about an entire gender. Some of them were so relieved to not be omegas, having empathized with their slave-to-be brothers, that they turned into gentle, compassionate masters, remembering that they, themselves, might have ended up an omega, but for a slight twist of fate. Others went to the other extreme, becoming arrogant and assuming that being an alpha was their right, and that keeping everyone else in line was their god-given duty.

“Nothing specific,” Helen said, and the fact that she maintained eye contact with him told him that she was telling the truth. All manner of things could have been happening in the mating room with the newest alpha of the estate, but she stuck to her direct plan of attack, no hint of shame or disgust coloring her features. “But you must have noticed his attitude. Unless someone reins him in, he’s going to turn into another Alistair.”

“Eh, I’ll second that,” Henry piped up. “The brat had me shining his boots every time he stepped in horse manure in the stables. And shite, it you don’t want horse shit on your boots, then stay out of the damn stalls, is what I say.”

James chewed on his mouthful to delay his answer, repressing the urge to rub his belly. His pregnancy was getting him an awful lot of favours from his master, but he didn’t like to press his luck. Or draw attention to his status as breeding omega.

In the Duke’s house, he’d been kept apart from the other omegas, had eaten with the betas, had been almost in a class of his own. But here, he still slept in the long bunkhouse, still washed with the others, self-conscious about his growing girth and feeling more and more ungainly by the day. 

And in light of his condition, David hadn’t dared utter a cross word in his direction, knowing that it would incite a very particular kind of irritation in the first alpha. Namely one that would see him banned from the omega’s quarters and confined to a life of celibacy until he learned some manners.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he said finally, not willing to promise anything specific. Because as much as Steve seemed unwilling to upset James at the moment, James was even more unwilling to upset Steve. And not because he feared any form of punishment, but rather for a far more selfish, far less noble reason. 

The day after he’d arrived home, Steve had once again called James up to his bedroom, and even before he’d closed the door, James had been hard and wet, longing to be fucked deep and slow…

But Steve had had something else in mind. Namely, a long conversation. He’d asked all about the child-heat, about James’s symptoms, about how he’d gotten through it the last time. And James had been beet-red by the end of it. Admitting to your master that you’ve been masturbating ten times a day was awkward, to say the least.

And then he’d been asked about the multiple-orgasms he’d had, and he’d had to admit that he’d been as stunned as Steve. The Duke had never mated him during late pregnancy, and he’d had no idea what to expect… but he’d also expressed his enthusiastic approval of the experience. It had satisfied his lust for nearly a full 24 hours, letting him concentrate on his work, allowing him to sleep deeply for the first time in weeks. 

And then Steve had asked how often he would like to be mated. In an ideal world.

Every day, James had said, feeling his cock throb at the idea, and also knowing that it would never happen-

“Then come to the main house after breakfast every day,” Steve had told him, causing his jaw to drop in disbelief. “I don’t guarantee I’ll have time everyday, but whenever I can, we’ll take care of this… condition for you.”

He’d then proceeded to fuck James into the mattress with such enthusiastic abandon that he’d left the room walking slightly crooked… and loving it. He’d come five times, and had spent the rest of the day comfortable and relaxed… right up until dawn the following day, when he’d woken with a raging erection, and vivid memories of his activities in his master’s bedroom.

So no, upsetting Steve right now wasn’t high on his list of priorities. But then again, neither was seeing the other omegas being misused.

 

“Oh fuck… Ahhhh!... Ugghhnnn…” James collapsed onto the mattress, his fifth orgasm spilling out of him. The wild arousal faded out for a moment, but then started to tingle once more as the pressure of Steve’s knot began to works its magic again. He felt a warm, soothing hand stroke his shoulder, then curve forward to encircle his belly – it still confounded him that Steve seemed to find his swollen body so attractive, that he was so willing to do this for James every day. And okay, so it wasn’t like it was without perks for Steve, but his natural sex drive had never been this intense, choosing to mate with James only every three or four days when it was left purely up to Steve. 

James felt his breathing kick up a notch again, his erection starting to throb, and little sparks of pleasure beginning to shoot out from his ass to his groin, up his spine, down his legs…

He tensed, murmured a slight complaint, arched his back and pawed the sheets… and still the climax built within him, teasing, hinting at things to come, but not quite achieving them… his legs twitched, and Steve put a steadying hand on his hip. “Easy… let it come…” James tried to breath evenly, but the orgasms had been getting more intense lately, as well as more rapid. It wasn’t uncommon these days for him to have six or seven climaxes per session, the pleasure uncontrollable until the knot went down. 

And then it burst up within him, his muscles tensing, his cock spilling its seed all over the sheets, his hips jerking and his voice crying out Steve’s name, needing the grounding feel of those strong arms around him, that smooth voice in his ear.

Not long after his sixth climax, his master’s knot finally receded, letting him pull out and end the wild stimulation that left James both sated and overwhelmed. 

“Okay?” Steve asked, and James managed to muster a lust-soaked ‘yeah’ before letting his eyes slide closed, catching his breath before he had to haul his satisfied body off the bed and return to his duties. 

He’d never enjoyed being pregnant so much, he mused, feeling Steve run his hands over his body, down his thighs, up to cup his ass. He’d never imagined that he could feel so sexy and wanted, while his belly sat so prominently in front of him and while his walk was becoming less of a stride and more of a waddle.

But there was another reason for him being here, he remembered, holding to his promise to Helen to say something about David. Steve climbed off the bed, seeking out a cloth to clean himself, and James turned over to face his master.

“How’s David doing?” he asked without preamble, knowing it was, on the surface, at least, an innocuous question. As the first alpha to be born here in over thirty years, Steve would have a significant interest in the boy. And as his breeding omega, it wasn’t inappropriate for James to ask about him.

But, not unexpectedly, Steve saw straight through the innocent question. “What’s he done?” he asked, and James had to laugh at the serious, fed up look on his master’s face. It had been naïve to think that he hadn’t noticed David’s shift in attitude – indeed, James was convinced by now that nothing happened on the estate without Steve finding out sooner or later. 

“Nothing specific,” James said honestly. “It’s just that some of the omegas have noticed… he’s growing to bear a striking resemblance to Alistair.” It was a sideway insult, the closest an omega could ever get to insulting an alpha of their own estate. On the surface it could even be brushed off as a compliment, a favourable comparison to alphas who had come before him. And with his most unusual of masters, it was a non-insulting insult that highlighted _exactly_ what David was doing, and what was wrong with it.

Steve closed his eyes and sighed, coming back to sit on the bed, and offering the cloth to James. He took it and wiped himself, cleaning the traces of Steve’s seed from his ass.

“I’ll have a word to him,” Steve said, a non-committal dismissal of the problem that, knowing Steve as well as he now did, James took to mean that he would give the boy a serious talking to, and restrict his activities in any way necessary until he learned to fulfill his role in a more respectful manner.

“The Baron is coming this afternoon,” he added, beginning to dress. “He’s to examine David and officially declare him an alpha. We’ll need the estate in good order and a meal prepared.” It was expected news – a visit from the Baron had been requested days ago, but as the local embodiment of the law, he was in high demand, and declaring an alpha was not the most urgent of his duties. But now that he was coming, suitable preparations had to be made. 

James stood up, knowing that both he and Steve had duties to attend to, and that they had wasted enough time here. But his pants were lying on the floor, and it was becoming more and more difficult to retrieve them… 

He felt himself flush as Steve picked up the discarded clothing and handed it to him. Alphas did not pick up after omegas. He took it hesitantly, confused and off-balance all over again.

“Oh, come on,” Steve said, sounding annoyed, but also with a trace of humor. “I wouldn’t be allowed to pick anything up for you in mixed company, but we both know better behind closed doors. For god’s sake, I stick my mouth around your cock on a regular basis. Picking up a pair of pants is hardly going to bring hell-fire down upon us.”

It was the first time he had addressed the wide gulf between their genders so frankly, and with so little regard for popular wisdom.

James narrowed his eyes, deliberately looking perplexed and quizzical. “There’s something odd about you,” he said, clinging to the bedpost to step into his pants. 

“A most unusual alpha,” Steve recited. “That’s what my father tells me. I like to take it as a compliment.” He handed James his shirt next, having finished dressing himself, and then directed him to sit down on the edge of the bed. “Now, hold on to your hat, because if picking up the clothes startled you, this one’s going to be a doozy.” He knelt down and helped slide James’s feet into his boots, lacing them up for him, and James felt an odd, lurching sensation in his chest. 

“Thank you,” he said finally, once both boots were in place, because what else could he say? And Steve held out his hand, pulling James upright. He stepped forward and kissed him, one hand on his belly, as was his habit these days. 

“Now go get a meal ready for this troublesome nobleman,” he said, his voice lacking any real authority. “Otherwise you’ll tempt me to tumble you straight back into bed.”


	19. Chapter 19

“David,” Steve said, announcing his presence in the orchard. He’d been lurking behind various bushes for fifteen minutes or so, watching as David wandered amongst the omegas busily picking the crop like he owned the place. And while it was true that he was a member of the ruling family, he was a long was from any real ownership. David had asked Henry to pick an apple from the highest branches of the tree, had criticised the speed at which Helen was working, and had even dared to challenge Mordin’s assessment of the crop. It was not as good as last year, late frost having damaged the buds, and they would have a leaner income this time around. But despite Mordin’s twenty years of experience, David had started spouting tidbits of information about apple crops, and that was when Steve had decided to step in.

“Come over to my study,” he said in a tone that would brook no refusal, and David turned lazily, still set on making an impression in front of the omegas-

“Now!” Steve snapped, not willing to take another moment of this disrespect and showboating. David started, then quickened his pace, his posture slumping as he flushed red, hurrying to get out of sight of the omegas.

Steve followed him to the main house, planning what he would say once they got there. His sharp tone had been less for David’s benefit than for the omegas. He wasn’t able to tell them that he’d told David off for his behaviour. Even James couldn’t be told such a thing, as it would bring insult to an alpha – albeit an alpha who was barely past puberty. But by that single sharp word, he’d soothed half a dozen sets of tense nerves by simply allowing the omegas to know that he had the situation under control. Such were the subtleties of a society in which there were a myriad of artificial barriers between two people simply sitting down and saying what they meant.

Inside the study, David dared to look affronted. But he didn’t say anything, and while it was tempting to yell at him, scold him sharply, Steve’s way had always been different. As his father’s way had been different with him.

“Sit down,” he instructed calmly. “We need to talk.” David sat, a faint pout on his face, and Steve reminded himself to be patient. The transition from child to adult was fraught with complications, and despite his apparent ego, he knew that David was also suffering from an acute rejection by his peers, and a deep uncertainty about his own physiology. One of the reasons why omegas were kept as house-mates was that, unlike the other genders, alphas were completely unable to relieve their own sexual needs. The knot developed slowly over a year or so, delayed even after the penis had grown to its full length and girth, but at some stage, a point of no return was reached. The knot required significant pressure around it to prevent an equally significant pain, and it only ever required a single experience of an over-inflated knot to educate an alpha that masturbation was an absolutely and totally bad idea.

“How’s it going?” Steve asked casually, pouring a small dram of whiskey and handing it to David, before pouring one for himself. 

But David surprised him. And this was why he’d made an effort to find somewhere private to talk. “I think I’m really bad at mating,” the boy blurted out, eyes wide, face red. “Helen didn’t climax. And you were right, I don’t have a knot yet! I came, and I just slid right out of her. When does the knot grow? And I asked Henry to get me an apple, but then once he’d got it, I didn’t want it. And I don’t know why. Can I mate with Henry? I don’t know if it would be better with a male. I thought I wanted Liara, but I’m no good at it, and that would just be really embarrassing, because the omegas talk to each other, don’t they? Do you think they talk about the alphas behind their backs? Because we’d never know and maybe Helen has told Liara that my penis hasn’t finished growing yet-“

Steve shifted over to sit beside David and put his arms around him, pulling him close against his chest. His frantic rambling faded out and Steve wasn’t surprised to feel the young man trembling against him. It was a shock, no matter which way the chips fell, to spend fifteen years of your life as a generic nobody, and then to suddenly be assigned a gender that would determine the course of your entire life.

“I don’t know how to be an alpha,” David muttered softly, a hitch in his voice, and Steve almost sighed with relief. He’d always thought David was a good boy, a gentle soul, and while some alphas did let their gender go to their head, it was a relief to know that David’s posturing was merely a result of stress and uncertainty.

“No one expects you to know everything straight away,” Steve said, sitting back and looking him in the eye. “For the next five years, you’re going to have a lot to study.”

“Study?”

“You’ll learn to speak English. Italian. You’ll improve your reading in French. Learn about economics and politics. You’ll memorise the name of every nobleman from here to Paris, and be taught about the laws and lines of succession that govern alphas. We’ll arrange a tutor, once the Baron has examined you.”

“What if he doesn’t think I’m a real alpha?” David blurted out, and Steve smiled. It was a common fear among young alphas, not quite trusting the opinion of the master of the house, and having to expose one’s genitals to a complete stranger was nerve racking at the best of times.

“Let me see you,” Steve suggested, and, eyes wide, David stood and opened his pants-

“Good god…” He had to be at least 7 inches long, completely flaccid, and Steve fought back a laugh, knowing it would be taken the wrong way. “You’re an alpha. Believe me. No omega ever had a penis that size.”

“Frank said he’d known omegas with six inch cocks.”

Steve’s eyebrows rose. “Did he? Well, I have no idea where, because I’ve never seen one.”

David flushed with relief and fastened his pants again. 

“Look,” Steve said, drinking his whiskey and encouraging David to do the same. “Being an alpha is a serious responsibility. It’s not just about mating rights and ordering people around. Everyone that you own or command also needs to be cared for. And you have to provide their food, their clothing, their security, you have to make sure any children born are cared for, you have to run the business endeavors of the estate with skill and diligence, and at the end of the day, any mistake that you make are seen as a reflection of how capable you are in running the estate. It’s no paradise. But that’s why you don’t have to take everything on overnight,” he went on, wanting to balance support with responsibility. “Frank and I are here to guide you. The betas have a wealth of knowledge, but it takes a humble mind to learn from them. And if you treat them well, then the omegas will be more loyal to you than you ever dared believe.”

“Like the way James treats you,” David said suddenly, and Steve frowned. 

“What do you mean?”

“Whenever you ask him to do anything, he can’t obey you quick enough. I’d like an omega that did that for me.”

James jumping to obey him? Hardly. He was hesitant, shy, perplexed and awkward about a vast number of things – not that Steve was complaining, but either David was deeply mistaken, seeing James’s nervousness as eagerness… or Steve was missing something significant about his favourite omega.

And given the number of things he’d misread already, he dreaded to think what the reality was.

 

Baron Wrex Urdnot was a giant hulk of a man, tall and wide, though his bulk was made up of muscle, rather than fat. He dismounted from his equally massive horse, stepping forward to embrace Frank like they were old friends. 

“So you finally bred a whelp of your own,” he said with open admiration, his voice deep and expansive, looking David up and down. David promptly blushed from head to toe, and Wrex laughed the laugh of a man who was the ruler of his own empire – and knew it. 

But at the same time, there was nothing malicious in his manner. He was ruler of the local district and he ruled with a firm hand, but every villager would also attest to his sense of fairness and his willingness to listen to an issue all the way through, rather than jumping to conclusions.

“Steven,” he greeted the first alpha warmly, offering his hand. “I hear good things about your business interests.” He glanced sideways at James. “And stranger things about your omega.”

“He’s an unusual one, I’ll agree with that. But he’s worth the trouble he causes.”

“Is he now?” The look in Wrex’s eyes was unreadable, and James squirmed under his appraisal.

“And young David,” Wrex said finally, looking the young man up and down again. “Well, let’s get the official side of this meeting over, shall we? Inside?”

“This way, please,” Frank said, leading the way into the house.

Knowing how stressful this process could be for young men, Wrex wasted no time. He, Frank and David shut themselves in the main study, he gave a single nod to David, who promptly opened his trousers and exposed himself, his skin tone blotchy, as if he couldn’t decide whether to blush with embarrassment or turn pale with fear.

Frank did the honors, taking a tape measure and holding it in position, while Wrex bent down to read the numbers. 

“I’m convinced,” he said simply, and with that, it was over. David fastened his pants, and Wrex produced a pre-drafted document declaring David to be an alpha, and a legal member of the Cortez estate. He signed the paper and handed it to David, then shook his hand. 

“Can I assume the young man is to be educated?” 

“We’ve requested a tutor from the Anderson estate. They’ve one they’re not using at present, and she’s produced excellent results in their alphas.”

“That’s right. English woman. Edie, wasn’t it? The locals say she’s something of a genius.”

“She certainly comes highly recommended. Speaks three languages, teaches mathematics, geography, history. David’s going to be in good hands.”

“Glad to hear it,” Wrex said, then a slow smile lit his face. “Now. Your invitation mentioned something about a meal?”

 

James’s heat-like symptoms continued for weeks, and more often than not, Steve met him in the servant’s hallway each morning and whisked him away into his quarters, mating him vigorously to their joint satisfaction, then secreted him out the back stairs again. Every servant in the estate knew what was going on, the omegas in particular gossiping about the surprising stamina of their first alpha, but Steve was far more interested in keeping the interludes a secret from Frank. He’d been clear in his disapproval of Steve mating with a pregnant omega, and while he harboured his own set of doubts about how good this really was for James, he also couldn’t bring himself to turn the man away. He’d seen the effects of an unmated omega during a true heat, and had listened to James’s descriptions of the child-heat, wincing in sympathy at every turn. The frequency of James’s orgasms had increased as the child grew, and now, at eight and a half months, he could easily come nine or ten times in a session. The sex seemed to exhaust him, but he’d been clear about his desire to continue. The effects of the child-heat were far worse than the side-effects of the mating, and he left Steve’s chamber tired but relaxed, happy, with a small, half-smile playing on his lips every time.

It was easy to forget that this was necessarily a limited experience, that these morning interludes would not last forever, the birth of the child coming closer every day, so it was both a surprise, and completely expected, the day Steve tugged James into his room, kissed him… and got absolutely no response in return.

He pulled back, worried, concerned, and saw that James seemed both embarrassed and… nauseous? There was a faint grimace on his face that he’d never seen before.

“Are you alright? Are you well?”

“I’m well,” James said, his voice sounding rough. “It’s just that… the child-heat. It seems to have… ended.”

And while Steve was instantly trying to will his insistent erection away, he was also proud as hell of the man in front of him. He clearly had no desire to mate today… and he’d managed to come straight out and say so. An omega refusing an alpha was definitely not on the good behaviour list for the average estate, but thank God the man was finally comfortable enough with him to know that there would be no consequences for his humbly expressed opinion.

“Are you… Is it… How close are you…?” Hell, he sounded like an awkward teenager again, stumbling over his own thoughts.

“It’s not time yet,” James told him, then winced and pressed a hand to his belly. Through the tightness of his shirt, Steve saw the clear outline of a tiny foot against his skin, and couldn’t help reaching out to touch the spot with shaking fingers. 

“That’s a foot! I saw the shape of a foot!”

Despite his obvious discomfort, James chuckled. “Yep. And he knows how to use them.” He took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and rubbed the spot again.

“You should move into the main house,” Steve said, thoughts suddenly firing at a mile a minute. “Breeding omegas have used the room next to Carolyn’s before. She’s on hand to help with whatever you need, and it’s on the ground floor, so you don’t have to climb that stairs.”

James nodded, and somehow Steve had expected more of a debate about it. Josephine had been moved into the main house a lot earlier in each of her pregnancies, but James had seemed to prefer the company of the other omegas, and Steve had been reluctant to push the issue.

“Are you sure you’re well?”

James nodded, shifting uncomfortably. “Just tired.” 

And also a little green around the gills, if Steve was any judge of the matter, but he decided not to push. “Lie down and rest,” Steve said, urging James towards his own bed. “I’ll make sure the room is set up for you, then I’ll come and see you later.”

James nodded again, and awkwardly heaved himself onto the bed, not even bothering to remove his boots. At nearly full term, he had to be uncomfortable, and Steve reminded himself to speak to Frank about the birth as soon as possible. Steve himself had never been witness to a birth before, and he knew that while Frank had attended them regularly, even that was uncommon in most social circles. Birth was a thing for omegas and betas, and all the average alpha wanted to know was what sex the child was, and whether it was healthy.

Steve drew the curtains, darkening the room, and let himself out quietly. His first child. His first birth. His first chance to make a real impact on the future of the estate. He was suddenly thrumming with energy, with nervousness, and he had to stop, take a deep breath, and remind himself that James had done this three times before. He knew the process inside out, knew what to do and what to expect. And for all his tiredness, James didn’t seem particularly worried about the birth. 

Maybe Steve should take a leaf from his book, and just calm down a little.

 

 

James felt tears prick his eyes as Steve closed the door. He hadn’t known whether to be relieved, or disappointed, when he’d woken up this morning and felt a total lack of desire to mate. At first, he’d considered just not turning up at the main house… but even if he didn’t want to go through with it, Steve deserved an explanation, so he’d gone… all the while trying to think of a way to explain his lack of desire to Steve in a way that wouldn’t be phrased as a blunt refusal. And explain it he must, he knew. For some inexplicable reason, Steve genuinely wanted honesty from him – humble, softly stated honesty, but honesty none the less. And James suspected that he’d blame himself if he continued to mate with James past his desire to do so, which made it all the more important to be straight about it.

It had gone well, a relief to know that the driving flood of desires and sensations had ended and his body was his own again, but he also felt a heart-wrenching loss at knowing that his ‘honeymoon’ with his alpha was over.

And very soon, he would be giving birth. And that was something he had very mixed feelings about. It was the epitome of what a good omega should be, a vessel to create new life, the climax of nine months of incubation and duty that proved, beyond all doubt, that he was a worthy member of this estate.

But at the same time… the birthing process was terribly hard on the omega’s body. Muscles ripped, major bruising occurred, some omegas bled profusely, and the omega in question was left with painful aches for days, unable to eat, unable to stand up, their belly bloated and swollen with fluid. Some had difficulty breathing for a while afterwards. The entire experience was daunting, and this time around, it seemed even more so. He’d spent so much time with Steve, he’d almost thought they might start to bond… a ridiculous idea, but how else could he explain his desire to just be in the man’s company, whether they were having sex or not?

But alphas did not attend births – the Duke never had, had rather expressed a strong disgust for the smells and mess and blood – and going through all that pain without his alpha seemed a much higher hill to climb that it had been previously. Perhaps if his master had been willing to attend the birth, James might have been able to face it with courage and determination. But as things stood… he was absolutely terrified.


	20. Chapter 20

It was just over five days later that James felt the first real shift in his body’s functioning. The male omega body had an unusual challenge when it came to child birth, given the dual use of part of the digestive tract as a birth canal, and nature had come up with a simple, if not particularly elegant solution. 48 hours before the birth, it simply shut down the omega’s digestive system – the omega lost all appetite, and if they attempted to eat, vomiting would result. They were able to drink water, and perhaps to compensate for the lack of nutrition, a heavy lethargy set in, nature’s way of encouraging the omega to lie down and conserve energy.

Females experienced a similar lack of appetite, but their symptoms were much milder, and most were able to stomach small amounts of bland food right through until the labour began in earnest.

Standing in the kitchen sorting potatoes for the evening meal, James felt a sudden wave of dizziness and grabbed onto the edge of the bench. He must have made some sound or other, because the cook turned to him instantly, dropping her knife in alarm.

“James? You okay?”

“Uh...” And yup, there was the next lot of symptoms, an uncomfortable tightness right across his abdomen that had him wincing. It wasn’t labour, wasn’t anything like the powerful muscular contractions that would come nearly two days later, but it was enough to get his attention. He felt his knees start to buckle, and leaned his weight into his arms.

“I’ll get Steve,” the cook announced, dashing from the room. And she must have caused a fuss as she went, because moments later, Mordin came rushing into the room, taking in James’s predicament in a split second. He grabbed a chair and tucked it up to the back of his legs. “Sit down,” he ordered, and James was both grateful and infuriated by the rule that said no one was to touch him. He could have used the help to make sure he landed on the chair, and not on the floor, but at the same time, his skin felt hyper-sensitive, and any touch was likely to cause him to vomit. He was breathing quickly, floundering around to find the edge of the chair, and then he sat down with an inelegant thud, his belly seeming to weigh twice as much as it had yesterday.

“Head down, try to breath slowly,” Mordin instructed him, and James remembered that the beta had told him he’d assisted in births before. Normally a midwife was called from the local village, but if she hadn’t been able to make it for some reason – summer storms and winter blizzards equal culprits in preventing urgent travel – then the staff on hand would have done the best they could. 

He obeyed the instructions, leaning his elbows on his knees, legs parted so his belly could fit between his thighs, and he fought back the nausea that was threatening to give him a second introduction to his own breakfast.

And then suddenly there was a hand on his neck, a soothing voice in his ear, and James felt every single muscle in his body ease, every nerve settle as his alpha arrived to care for him. He tried to remind himself that it wouldn’t last, that he was just here to see that the shadow-time was really starting – that was the Spanish name for it, at least. Goodness knew what they called it in France. But regardless of his intentions, James felt a whole lot better knowing that his master was nearby.

“Come on. You need to go back to your room. Okay, James? We’re just going to stand up – you can lean on me – and we’ll take it slowly back to the main house.”

James nodded and fumbled blindly for his master’s hand, dizziness making him not want to open his eyes. He felt strong shoulders insert themselves beneath his arm, and he convinced his legs to lift him, leaning heavily on Steve as they shuffled across the courtyard. There was a bevy of staff around him, the cook, Mordin, Carolyn, and of course someone would have gone to get Samantha, the beta who was to raise the child. Omegas never raised their own children, and most actually held no desire to do so. And so Mother Nature had come up with yet another odd quirk for the species to care for its offspring. 

Betas, in general, produced no pheromones, nor did they respond to any. But female betas had one exception to that rule – in the last 48 hours of an omega’s pregnancy, the omega produced strong pheromones that incited a reaction in any beta female who spent enough time within range. The beta’s body would begin producing pheromones of its own, which triggered more pheromones in the omega, enhancing the whole cycle. And the end result was that the beta’s body would rapidly prepare itself for lactation, the breasts swelling, the hormones beginning a cycle that would last a whole year.

Samantha was young, not much older than twenty, and this would be her first child. There would be plenty of advice and support from older, more experienced mothers, of course, but it was still a daunting task for a young woman.

James was more relieved that ever when they finally shuffled through his door and Steve set him down gently on his bed. He went to lie down, but sat up again quickly. The room seemed to spin around him, and lying down just made it all worse.

“Here…” Steve arranged several pillows for him to lean against, and then knelt to remove James’s boot… and if he hadn’t been working so hard on not throwing up, he might have been amused at the shocked faces of the staff crowding into the doorway. Alphas did not kneel before omegas…

And then the moment was over, Steve standing up to help James shift back to lean against the pillows, oblivious to the stares of his staff.

“How are you feeling?”

James coughed out a short laugh. “Like I’m going to give birth soon.”

“Mordin, fetch Karin Chakwas,” Steve snapped, causing the aging man to dash from the room much faster than James would have thought possible. Karin was the village midwife, and though he wouldn’t go into labour for another 36 hours or so, it was important that she was brought here as soon as possible – both to monitor James’s condition, and to advise Samantha on her role in the birth and the care of the newborn.

“Everybody else, out!” he ordered, then grabbed Samantha before she could leave. “Not you. We need you here.” She obediently sat down, though really, she wasn’t given much choice in the matter. The rest of the gathering hastily left, leaving James alone with Steve, and his child’s new mother.

Steve sat on the edge of the bed, ignoring the beta woman entirely. “Are you okay?” he asked gently, worry creasing his forehead, and James went to nod… and then looked down instead. He stared at his hands, seeing them shake.

“Could you stay with me?” he asked in a small voice. Facing the birth without his alpha by his side was an unbearable thought.

“Of course,” Steve said instantly, and James smiled, sure he had mistaken the question. 

“I mean… not for… I… when I…” Fuck, was he ever going to get over this ridiculous tendency to stutter and fumble his words? He stopped and took a deep breath, composing his thoughts before he opened his mouth again. “You don’t have to stay for the whole shadow-time. But could you be here for the birth?”

He didn’t dare look at Steve as he spoke, half of him astonished that he’d dared make so blatant a request of his master, while the other half was cringing at the inevitable denial that was to come-

“Of course. Did you think I wouldn’t be?”

James’s gaze snapped up. “The Duke didn’t…”

“I’m really starting to hate this Duke of yours,” Steve said with an edge to his voice, and if James had been a less well-trained omega, he might have shared the sentiment. “I’ll be here for the birth. Promise.” He took James’s hand and kissed it, and James felt the tension in his body ease. 

“Thank you.”

 

James paced the room, completely naked, his abdomen aching, his back complaining, his feet swollen. His body was throwing off staggering amounts of heat, the labour having been properly underway for nearly 12 hours now, and despite the rapidly declining weather, winter well on its way, he was sweating despite his nudity.

Chakwas was perched in a chair in the corner. Samantha was sitting beside her, drinking a herbal tea that was designed to relieve the ache in her rapidly developing breasts. Steve was sitting on the bed, watching him pace, seeming to understand the vague explanation that movement helped with the aches. Or maybe it just helped with the anxiety, James thought, turning to pace back in the other direction. Having Steve there helped a great deal, but he was still apprehensive about the pain to come. But at least he wouldn’t be going through it alone…

He sat down on the edge of the bed beside his master, feeling another thrill of relief when Steve instantly took his hand with one of his own, and rubbed his shoulder with the other. Another swell of pain was coming on, and James squeezed his hand tightly, tensing with the contraction, gritting his teeth against it-

“Breathe!” Steve reminded him sharply, and James tried to breathe, tried to use the rhythmic inhale-exhale as a way to get through it, but he couldn’t help crying out, sure he was going to crush his master’s hand in his own.

The hand on his shoulder shifted to the back of his neck, massaging the cluster of nerves there, and fuck yes, that helped a lot, easing some of his tension, taking away the worst edge of pain, and he leaned into his master’s touch, wordlessly asking for more.

What James didn’t know – indeed, what would not be discovered by science for another hundred years or so – was that the cluster of nerves in the neck of every omega provided a direct link to a small section of the brain, and pressure on those nerves caused the immediate release of endorphins, chemicals which caused muscle relaxation, pain relief, and a mild euphoric sensation. A simple massage had a slight muscle relaxant effect, while the firm bite of an alpha caused a more profound limpness and euphoria.

But even the alphas of the day didn’t really understand the mechanism by which the bite worked – they only knew it as a way to suppress and control – or to soothe and relax – an omega, depending on the intentions of the alpha involved.

The wave of pain passed, and James sagged a little. The birth was coming on soon – he could feel the growing pressure inside himself and was dreading the ripping sensation that accompanied the child’s exit from his body. Nature should have designed the body better, he thought blackly, if it was so damned interested in preserving the continuity of the species. Rendering the reproductive members of a species incapacitated after they had finished producing new life seemed a stupid way to do things, to his way of thinking-

“Oh, god…” He lurched forward, bent over, hand on his belly as he felt another surge of a contraction, sharper and quicker than the others, and he slid forward onto his knees. The birth was imminent, and Chakwas seemed to realise, darting over to kneel by his side, guiding him to turn around and lean against the bed. 

Outside the door, a bevy of staff were on hand to whisk the baby away, clean it, wrap it, assist Samantha with her first attempts at breastfeeding, but within the birthing room, there were only four people – Chakwas, James, Samantha and Steve. 

And while Samantha stayed put in the corner, watching on with thinly veiled horror, Steve and the midwife were right beside him. Earlier in the labour, Chakwas had asked Steve to step outside with her, and they’d had a quiet, serious conversation about god knows what, and then they’d come back inside, Chakwas seeming much happier, and Steve bearing a slight blush on his dark skin. James had been too preoccupied to bother asking what they’d discussed, but the idea that they were working together for the wellbeing of the child, and himself, was most reassuring. 

Chakwas gathered a soft wrap to catch the child in, and Steve moved over, wrapping one arm around James’s chest, his head down beside him, murmuring soothing words into his ear.

There was another contraction, a gush of fluid between his legs, and James felt the head of the child pressing against his insides. Soon, he would have the profound urge to push, and then his body would rip itself apart-

Strong, sharp teeth sank into the back of James’s neck, and he felt his entire body go immediately limp. His arms flopped loosely at his sides, a strong body catching him under the arms to stop him collapsing to the floor, and his entire world narrowed down to those sharp points of pressure in his neck. The bite increased in pressure, and a wave of euphoria hit him hard. 

Something was happening to his lower body, James thought dimly. There was something wet, hands on him, something large and warm passing out of his body, but all he really cared about, all he was able to focus on was that wonderful sharp pressure against his neck. His head flopped forward and he was dimly aware of his breathing, slow and steady, while his abdomen contracted, though he felt it only as a dim, distant sensation, devoid of pain, devoid of any kind of worry or concern… and then there were voices, some excited, some low and soothing, then footsteps and a door opening and closing… and the pressure on his neck eased off, the teeth withdrawn, a soothing lick covering the spot, then his alpha’s quiet words in his ear.

“That’s it. Well done. The baby’s been born.”

“Huh?” James felt his arms being propped up on the edge of the bed, and he tried to support himself, tried to lift his head, but it all seemed like too much effort. His alpha was here. That’s all that mattered.

“There’s just the afterbirth to go, and then it’s all over.”

What was over? 

“Just relax. It’ll come in a minute.”

He felt a soft cloth wiping his legs, felt moisture running from his back passage. He felt a trickle of what could have been blood coming from the bite on his neck, and he wanted to feel that again, that solid, confident bite that made the rest of the world fade away. Where was he again? There was something important that he was supposed to be doing, but he couldn’t remember how to do it…

 

Steve watched as James muttered incoherently, his head resting on the bed. His recent conversation with his father had been enlightening – Frank had witnessed a number of births, and it wasn’t until Chakwas had come to the village as the midwife some five or six years ago that he’d learned what the role of an alpha during a birth really was. Conventional wisdom said that the birthing process was desperately difficult, which was why the strongest and healthiest omegas were chosen for breeding. But what seemed to have slipped the attention of the majority of alphas was that they, themselves, were an integral part of the birthing process. 

The omega’s body, left to its own devices, was its own worst enemy. The tension of the muscles, the urge to push, to clench, to strain, caused the abdominal muscles to tense and rip, unable to stretch enough to allow passage of the child. But a solid bite on the back of the neck rendered the omega a helpless rag-doll, the muscles loose and accommodating, the child slipping easily from the body.

And then Chakwas had pulled him aside and explain the process in more detail, which had both allayed the last of Steve’s fears about the birth, and caused him to curse his own gender as selfish, ignorant brutes. Most alphas didn’t bother attending the birth of their own children, viewing the process as messy and disgusting, beneath their interest… and in the process, they condemned their omegas to days of agony as their bodies tried to heal from wounds which should never have been inflicted in the first place.

Steve had been determined that James should not suffer that kind of pain ever again. He’d been startled at how heavy the man was, once he had gone limp, but Steve was no weakling himself, and he’d tightened his grip, keeping the man upright as the child slid from between his legs, his jaw aching from the need to maintain the bite. 

He’d bitten him too hard in the end, drawing blood as he’d felt his teeth break the skin, but he hadn’t let go, not until the cord was cut and the child hurried away.

“Just breathe,” he murmured to his omega now, watching Chakwas for instructions, guidance as to when the second bite would be needed. In all probability, James would be able to pass the afterbirth without his assistance, but he wanted to do everything he could to make this as painless and easy a process as possible.

And then James started whimpering, his fists clenching at the sheets, and a moment later, Chakwas gave him a nod, and he bit his omega again, feeling that powerful body go limp, listening as Chakwas gave him a running commentary on James’s progress. 

A minute later, the afterbirth had been passed and he was able to release his jaw from James’s neck. After two firm bites in a matter of minutes, the man was all but unconscious now, his body lax and his eyes closed, and he slid sideways, Steve carefully guiding him to lie down on the mat on the floor. He muttered something in Spanish, and Steve stroked his hair, pressed a kiss to his temple.

“Shh. It’s all over. Just rest. You did really well.”

James made a humming sound and went still. His lower body was coated with all manner of bodily fluids, and Chakwas came forward with a basin of water and a cloth… but something made Steve stop her as she reached forward to clean his omega’s body.

“I’ll do it,” he said softly, not wanting to disturb James, and she raised a professional eyebrow at him, her head inclined at an angle that suddenly made Steve feel terribly self-conscious. But he needed to wash his omega himself, and despite the blush he felt coloring his cheeks, he took the cloth from her and set about washing the blood and mucous away.


	21. Chapter 21

James woke slowly, his body feeling lethargic and strangely numb. He felt that he should open his eyes, but couldn’t quite be bothered. He wasn’t in his bed, he knew, the surface beneath him too hard, the light coming from the wrong direction, but he felt at peace, the scent of his alpha strong in the air.

Something important had happened, he remembered, something that would have some painful consequences… though the thing itself wasn’t a bad thing…

What had happened?

He rolled over, feeling something soft and bulky pressing against his ass, and he squirmed, trying to work out what the feeling was. Despite the discomfort, the sense of wellbeing lingered, the idea that he’d done something well, that he had achieved something of worth…

He sighed, inhaling more of that wonderful alpha smell, and wondered if he’d just finished his heat? Alphas only smelled like that after a long bout of sex, intense and satisfying. Steve was here – but not lying beside him, he realised, as he reached out and found empty sheets, and that’s what made him open his eyes-

James sat up sharply, startled to find himself in the birthing room, realising quickly that he was lying on a mat on the floor, and he turned his head, even more surprised to see his master lying on the single bed in the room, fully dressed and sound asleep.

He reflexively put a hand on his abdomen, anticipating a wave of pain and nausea. He’d given birth, he remembered. He’d had the child – and proof enough of that was the sudden absence of the bulge within his body. His middle was still a little bloated and swollen, but nothing like it had been before.

And what he could feel strapped to his ass was a pad of soft wool, secured about his waist, to absorb the blood and fluid that would continue to seep from him for a few days. 

And then he realised that he was sitting up, his weight centered directly over his ass… and he wasn’t in pain. He should have been unable to sit, his body a mess of aches and bruises, but instead he was feeling… good god, he was actually hungry. That couldn’t be right. Omegas couldn’t eat for days after they gave birth, the tearing in the bowels too severe to tolerate even the softest, blandest food…

He had the strangest craving for bacon.

He thought back over the birth. Remembered being led to the birthing room. Remembered Chakwas arriving and being examined by gentle, confident hands. Remembered the labour progressing slowly, painstakingly, a familiar process that left him feeling tired and drained… and then everything was a blank. He didn’t remember the actual birth at all… 

He reached up and felt his neck, and yes, there was a sore spot, a scab where he’d bled from a bite wound…

“Steve.” Omegas didn’t call their masters by name, but he needed to wake the man, needed to know-

“Hm?” Steve jolted awake, sitting up suddenly, blearily, and he caught sight of James, still naked, half-covered with a blanket, and instantly was out of bed, kneeling beside him. “James. Are you okay? How are you feeling?”

“You bit me,” James said, comprehension coming slowly to his exhausted brain. “Why did you bite me?”

“It makes the birthing process a lot easier,” Steve explained, pulling the blanket away, assessing his body with a frown. “Are you in pain?”

James felt a few slight aches, but nothing to complain about. “Not much. Nothing like the last time I gave birth.” He reached out and stroked his master’s face, wondering at this most inexplicable alpha, who cared about his slave’s comfort and pain in a way that made no sense at all. “Who told you to bite me?”

“Frank,” Steve said, his smile making James smile in return, and he realised that he was still a little high from the bite. Reality seemed a little hazy still. “And Chakwas. She said it would make you relax, make the birth a lot easier. And apparently, it also makes it easier for the omega to fall pregnant at their next heat. She said that the stress of a natural birth sometimes prevents conception from occurring-“ Steve trailed off, no doubt distressed by the shock in James’s face. “What’s wrong?”

If he hadn’t been cushioned by the lingering euphoria of endorphins and the hormones of his pregnancy, James would likely have slammed his fist through a wall. As it was, he shoved his master away roughly, stood up, staggered backwards as his legs struggled to keep up with the sudden demands on them. “He did this,” he declared, outraged, horrified.

“Who did?”

“The Duke. He never helped. I went through three pregnancies, and he never helped, and then I couldn’t conceive, and he… he blamed me for that-“

Steve’s face turned suddenly pale. “Oh, god…”

 

Steve cursed himself as twelve kinds of idiot for what he had just said. He should have known better, should have thought before speaking, knowing how sore an issue James’s previous miscarriage still was. And yes, maybe the Duke had contributed to it, but it was impossible to know for sure. Omegas failed to conceive for any number of reasons. Sometimes the pregnancies went badly, sometimes the child was born weak and sickly, sometimes still-born, and who but the gods could ever really know why? 

But that was no excuse for just blurting out what he had without thinking, and he watched as tears gathered in his omega’s eyes and spilled down his cheeks. His body was trembling, and Steve leapt to his feet, taking the man in his arms, holding him tightly, wishing he had the words to express how grateful he was to have him here, to have had the chance to know him, to see the child grow within his body and see it born…

“I love you,” he said without thinking, only knowing that he needed to soothe his omega. “I am so glad you’re here, and I know you’ve been through so much pain to get here, but I… I want you here, with me, more than anything. You’re staying here, James, I’m never going to sell you. And you’ve given me a beautiful, healthy baby boy, and I’m so very proud of you for that-“

James jerked back, his eyes wide, but with excitement, rather than distress. “It was a boy?”

“Yes, it was a boy.”

“I gave you a boy?”

Steve grinned, laughed, unable to help himself. “Yes.”

James made a sound of disbelief, of wonder. “I’m a damn good omega,” he said.

“That you are,” Steve agreed, reaching up to wipe away the tears that were still falling from James’s eyes. “The very best.”

 

Half an hour later, James and Steve were sitting in bed, squished together in the space provided by the single mattress, Steve stroking James’s hair as he leaned his head against his shoulder. His omega was still weak, tired, aching, but he was at least able to stand up and walk around a little.

And currently complaining that he was hungry. After two and a half days of eating nothing at all, that was hardly surprising.

“What do you want for breakfast?” Steve asked. Oatmeal was the standard fare for omegas, but he was prepared to give James pretty much anything he asked for today. Fruit, eggs, fresh bread… 

“Bacon,” James said audaciously, and Steve took a moment to consider whether he had made the request to test the limits of his master’s favour, or because he actually wanted it. Bacon was expensive, rare, difficult to find given that the estate didn’t keep any pigs of its own, and never, ever given to an omega…

“Bacon it is,” he said amiably, and the grin on his omega’s face was priceless. Steve would have bought him an entire herd of pigs just to see that grin. He slid out of bed and went to open the door. Predictably, Carolyn was on the other side, seated in a cushioned chair, and she sat up as she saw Steve, ready to fulfill whatever request he had.

“Could you bring us some breakfast,” he asked mildly. “Bacon, eggs, toast. Some tea.”

“Of course,” she agreed immediately, and hurried off towards the kitchen. A knock at the door fifteen minutes later saw her returning with a wide tray, laden with a tea pot – only one cup – and two plates. One contained steaming eggs – scrambled, over crisp toast – and the other contained a generous portion of bacon, alongside more toast, and a sprig of sage. Steve took the tray and closed the door, amused at the cook’s interpretation of his request. Eggs were not the usual breakfast fare of omegas, but they might be allowed them on the odd occasion – a reward for service above and beyond the call of duty. So the obvious conclusion was that the cook had prepared the eggs for James and the bacon and tea for Steve. When in reality, the truth was the complete opposite.

He set the tray on the bed and climbed in beside James, tugging the blanket up to keep his omega warm. And then his heart skipped a beat as James twisted around and kissed him, a soft, chaste meeting of lips, and didn’t that make him feel like the tallest man in the entire world…

He stabbed a slice of bacon with his fork and lifted it, offering it to James, and he took it delicately between teeth and tongue, chewing slowly, savoring the experience. Swallowed. Licked his lips.

“God, I haven’t have bacon in years.”

“When was the last time?” Delving into James’s past was a potential mine-field of painful memories, but maybe if he could remember a few of the better ones…

“The one and only time. I was twelve,” James said softly. “One of the master’s horses had escaped. We’d had a thunderstorm and the groom hadn’t gotten the mares in from the paddock in time. One of them bolted. I went out the next day, on foot. Tracked the bugger through twelve miles of woodland. Found her in the end, and brought her home, and the master said he’d give me a reward. So I asked for bacon for breakfast. I’d never even tasted it before, but that was what the first alpha on the estate always asked for after he’d gone through a heat with one of the omegas, so I figured it must be pretty good stuff. God, that was the best breakfast I ever had.”

Steve loaded the next mouthful onto his fork and offered it to James. “Better than this one?” he asked, as James took the food. 

“Hmm… that depends,” James said, when he had swallowed.

“On what?”

“Are you going to let me drink the tea?”

Steve laughed. “You never drink tea.”

“Only because I’ve never been given the chance.”

“Fine,” he said, laughing, and reached forward to pour a cup, only filling it halfway, given the precarious position of the tray on the bed. He handed it to James, who took a sip… and instantly made a face.

“God, what is that?”

Steve laughed, a rich, hearty sound. “You asked for it,” he pointed out, and James reached for another strip of bacon, shoving it into his mouth with his bare fingers to rid himself of the taste of the tea. 

“Bloody hell… okay, you can keep the tea. But I’m taking the toast,” he added, swiping a slice, thick with butter, from the tray.

“Do I get to eat the eggs, or do you want those as well?”

James shrugged, munching on his toast happily. “You can do what you like with those. But I’m keeping the bacon.”


	22. Chapter 22

Life slowly returned to normal on the estate. James was given two weeks off duty, time for his body to heal, and then he returned to his chores in the stable. And truth be told, he enjoyed the work, feeling his muscles fill out, his strength return. And the sly, sideways glances the horses gave him always managed to keep his mood up.

It was six weeks before Steve asked to mate with him again. He’d explained at length that he wanted James to heal fully before they were together again, and though James missed the intimacy at times, he was aware of a few lingering aches that told him that his master was correct in his assessment of his health, and that waiting was the wiser course of action.

And when they had finally mated, it had been inexpressibly beautiful, Steve proceeding slowly and gently, James utterly lost in the feel of warm skin against his own, in the feel of calloused fingers stroking his flesh, in the sound of his master’s pleasure and the heady rush of his own.

The child he had birthed was healthy and strong – a good baby, Samantha informed him one day. He was sleeping for four hours at a time, feeding heartily, growing rapidly. And James always felt a surge of pride whenever he saw the baby being carried around the estate. Steve was a regular visitor to the beta’s house, keeping an eye on the child’s development, and Chakwas visited twice in the weeks following the birth, firstly to check up on the child, but secondly to see that James was recovering well, and he’d blushed and been utterly touched by her concern. The midwife at the Duke’s estate had barely given him a second glance once the birth was over.

James returned to his bed in the omega’s quarters, soothed by the sounds of Henry snoring lightly, and the rustles of the other omegas turning over during the night… but even so, he experienced a nagging longing for something else… though if he had been asked, he’d have been clueless as to what it was.

And so life continued throughout the long, cold weeks of winter, the fires banked against the cold, the sheep brought into the barn, the ground crusted in ice and the trees bare. 

Several of the omegas went through their heats, but each time Steve sent a beta to one of the local estates, enlisting the assistance of one of their alphas to see the omegas through. David, of course, had offered his services for mating, but as Steve had patiently reminded him, his knot wasn’t fully developed yet, and he wouldn’t be big enough to stop the heat-pain for the omega. None the less, the boy had gotten a whiff of omega pheromones, and Steve had had to forcibly remove him from the kitchen, both of them flaring as the staff looked on, wondering if a fight was about to start… 

But David had backed down, sent away to his room, and Steve had retreated to his study, in a tense mood and wanting to be left alone.

The worst of the winter storms were over by mid march, the first buds beginning to form on the trees and the cautious songs of some very adventurous birds began to break the pale silence of the landscape. Being cooped up indoors all day was beginning to drive everyone a little mad, and so when the first warm, bright day of spring dawned, Steve decided a trip to the local markets was in order. 

And he chose Mordin and James to accompany him. James in particular should enjoy the trip, having been confined to the estate for much of his pregnancy, and in just over 6 months, he’d go through his next heat and in all likelihood fall pregnant again, limiting his activities once more. It was time to get out and see the world a little.

The markets in spring were a unique time, the craftsmen and women having spent the winter working on their wares, and it was well known that the best and most expensive items were only available for a few weeks, after which time they had sold out and the merchants were back to their usual stock, fine products still, but nothing out of the ordinary. 

The streets were crowded, alphas, betas and omegas all out and about, the omegas sticking close to their masters, some calm and good-humoured, others dour and miserable. And not for the first time, Steve wondered at the system they had that let one gender dictate the actions and destiny of another. Was it really the best way for society to function? But questioning the rights of the alphas would be as crazy as questioning the rule of the nobility. There were plenty of people who disliked the nobles, who saw their actions as ruthless and selfish, but there had to be someone to control the lawless elements of society, and for all their flaws, the nobility served that function. It was a complex mess, an intricate balance of a thousand different factors, and he wasn’t sure he would ever make sense of the whole thing.

But for the time being, he could do his best to care for the omegas on his own estate. Three of them, including James, needed new boots, Liara needed a new set of clothing, some of the blankets were becoming a little threadbare, and the kitchen was short on spices. He gave Mordin a list of things to buy and a purse of money, and the man darted off, knowing the cheapest merchants, the most talented craftsmen, and how to bargain his way down to the best price.

He also wanted to get James some clothes for his next pregnancy. He’d noticed the way his shirt had ridden up during the last few months, not long enough to cover his belly, and given that next time, most of his pregnancy would happen during the winter, he wanted his omega covered properly and kept warm.

They were on their way to Steve’s favourite seamstress when they happened to pass the courthouse. While the Baron oversaw local matters of law, the courts were used to settle minor disputes considered too trivial for the Baron’s attention, and Steve remembered that he needed to get a letter signed with an official seal before he could send it to Paris. So he told James to wait at the door while he went inside. Omegas were not allowed inside the court house, and there were several others lingering near the door, taking advantage of the bright sun to warm up a little. James nodded, and settled himself against the wall, and Steve trotted up the steps. 

Inside, the offices were busy, everyone else seeming to have had the same idea to come out in the fine weather. He joined a queue and waited, inching forward, fiddling with the letter… and then finally it was his turn. The man at the desk was an alpha, not nobility, but hand-picked by the baron and educated in matters of the law, and he read Steve’s letter slowly, thoroughly, before nodding and signing his name at the bottom. Steve handed over several coins – the fee for his services – and headed back out into the street, tucking the letter away-

But outside, the situation had changed markedly. The rest of the omegas were gone, and James was now the only one standing by the door… but he was far from alone. Three alphas surrounded him, and Steve was too far away to hear what they were saying but James was clearly not liking it, tense, eyes darting about to look for an escape route. And then one of the alphas stepped forward and shoved him back against the wall, and Steve saw red.

“Hey!” he yelled, marching over. “Get your fucking hands off my property.” But two of the men met him as he came. 

“You should watch your boy,” they told him harshly. “Fucking cunt should learn some manners.” God knew what James had done, but given the attitude of these three, Steve would have bet a year’s income that they had started it, and then decided to blame his omega for trying to defend himself. And Steve hoped he could talk his way out of this, not liking the odds of three against one. Or even against two, should James see fit to fight back.

But then the third alpha took a swing at James, his meaty fist connecting with his omega’s face… and Steve felt a surge of adrenaline, reason vanishing, his anger bursting up like a living beast.

With a yell, he launched himself at the men, charging through the two in front of him to pummel the third, the one who had hit James. How dare they! He swung again, aware of the other two coming back to help their buddy, and he spun around to face them, fists up, curses springing from his lips-

But as they caught a look at his face, the two alphas coming at him suddenly stopped, the oddest looks of fear and astonishment on their faces.

“Sorry!” one apologised, the word sounding ridiculous given the situation. “We didn’t know.”

“Yeah, real sorry,” the second one added, edging around Steve to help his friend up. “Didn’t mean to cause offence.”

Steve watched them scurry away, already moving to help James… but his omega was already back on his feet, scowling, wiping blood from his nose. Steve handed him a handkerchief to stem the flow. “You okay?” He looked the man over quickly, noting that there would be a colorful bruise on his cheek, but James just nodded. 

“Thank you, sir,” he said demurely, no doubt aware they were in public and wanting to appear the respectful, obedient omega to their growing audience. “I’ll be fine.”

Steve took a deep breath, willing himself to calm down before turning to face the gawking passers by. “Come on,” he said to James, leading him hastily away. Hopefully the seamstress could give them some water to wash his face with. What was the world coming to? He couldn’t leave his omega alone for even five minutes without someone trying to cause trouble? He would have to have a word to the Baron about this, maybe petition for a stronger military presence in the markets. A legally owned omega should have better protection from the likes of those thugs.

 

Back at the estate, Steve found that he hadn’t calmed down as much as he thought he had. Frank had met him at the door and immediately asked what the hell had happened to James’s face. Steve had sent James back to his duties and then gone inside, detailing the incident to his father.

“It’s outrageous,” he ranted, long minutes later. “I’m not allowed to take my omega inside the court house, but I can’t leave him alone for five minutes without someone coming along and trying to cause trouble.” 

The most common sort of trouble that alphas liked to cause with omegas, of course, was sex. The concept of rape was a foreign one – legally, omegas couldn’t be raped, and wouldn’t begin to assert their own freedom of choice over mating partners for another hundred and fifty years. Rather, as things stood, the crime was one of theft, or trespass, an offence against the master, but never against the slave. But some thread of outrage in Steve’s mind was trying to grasp the concept, trying to put a name to the idea that an omega could be mated very much against his will. 

“I want an audience with the Baron,” he went on. “And it’s not just about compensation for the damage. It shouldn’t be happening in the first place!” He spun around to face his father, having paced off across the room, getting more agitated by the minute. But as his father looked him in the face, he suddenly gasped and took a step back, his expression one of complete astonishment.

“What?” Steve asked. It was the same expression the alpha thugs had given him, right before they’d turned tail and run away, and he wondered what the hell he was missing-

Frank grabbed his arm and dragged him in front of an antique mirror hanging on the wall. “Look,” he said simply, holding Steve’s head so that he had to stare himself in the face…

Steve’s jaw dropped as he stared into the face of a complete stranger. The shape of his face was the same, same mouth, same nose, same hair, but his eyes… the eyes in the mirror were a vivid golden color. He turned to his father in confusion. “I’m flaring,” he said dumbly. “Why am I flaring?” Was there something wrong with him? Was there an omega on heat that he hadn’t noticed? 

“It’s James,” Frank said, a wealth of emotion in his voice, awe and admiration and something else that gave Steve a lump in his throat. “You’ve bonded with him.”

Steve let out a huff of pure disbelief. “That’s not possible. James would never bond with me.”

“So is there some other omega you’ve been bonding with that I wasn’t aware of?” The question was laced with sarcasm, and Steve turned back to the mirror in disbelief. But his eyes had returned to their usual brown color. “Well, it’s no wonder the alphas in the market ran away,” Frank went on, referring to the story Steve had told him earlier. “If they saw you flare, there’s no way in the world they’d have taken on a bonded alpha. Everyone knows you’re crazy bastards.”

So that was why he’d suddenly felt capable of taking on three men in a fist fight. And he’d likely have won, if they’d hung around.

“Why didn’t James say anything?” Steve asked, feeling suddenly bereft. “He was right there. Why didn’t he tell me… Why wouldn’t he tell me we were bonded?” Did James not want to be? Everyone said the bonding was mutual, but perhaps there was a way it could happen by accident, without him really wanting it to-

“As I recall, he was busy getting beaten up,” Frank said sensibly. “And good god, you’re flaring again.”

“Sorry,” Steve muttered, not really sure what he was apologising for, and he closed his eyes, as if that would help. His emotions were in chaos, and he desperately wanted to go and tell James, go and kiss him and tell him how happy he was, how much he loved being bonded to him, but he was also terrified of James’s reaction. What if he wasn’t happy about it? It would break Steve’s heart. But Frank was oblivious to his suddenly morose line of thinking.

“Well, it looks like we’ll be needing to see the Baron after all,” he said cheerfully, giving his son a firm clap on the shoulder. “And a tattoo artist, as well.”

 

James wasn’t sure what the commotion at the main house was about. After they’d gotten back to the estate, he’d been sent back to the stables, Steve and Frank had disappeared, and then, about half an hour later, all manner of chaos had broken out. Two messengers were sent galloping off down the road, the kitchen was a flurry of activity, betas were coming and going from the main house in droves. James watched the commotion from the stables, wondering if he’d inadvertently caused it. Had he done something wrong? He’d tried to avoid the fight-

“James!” Mordin called from the doorway. “Go and wash, and put on some clean clothes. We’re expecting a visit from the Baron.”

So that’s what the fuss was about. James carefully leant his pitchfork against the wall and hurried over to the wash room. Slaves weren’t usually required to dress for visits, making a brief appearance only at the guest’s arrival, and then keeping themselves out of sight, busy with their chores. But every now and then, a more formal visit required the entire estate to put on its best face. And this was to be quite the production, he realised, as he passed the kitchen. Liara, Helen and the cook hurried past, each lugging a leg of lamb from the cold room. A formal dinner, then, if they were preparing enough food for the entire estate. Normally a meal would be prepared for the alphas and the guests, the rest of the estate left to their usual rations… and yes, there was Henry, with a crate of potatoes, and two of the betas, with the first fresh greens from the greenhouse. 

James washed quickly, scrubbed his face, wishing he didn’t have a bright new bruise to show the Baron, and dressed in his better set of clothes. More hoof beats outside, and he emerged just in time to see one of the messengers return. Steve met him outside, and a brief conversation was had… and then the man happened to look up and see James watching them. His eyes widened for an instant… and then he ducked his head, bowed to his master, and hurried away, the horse in tow. 

James felt a sinking sensation in his gut. So maybe he had caused some trouble after all. Was the Baron coming here as a result of the fight?

“James!” He looked up, seeing Steve watching him with a strange expression on his face, and he forced himself to walk over and meet him.

“Yes, sir?”

“Come inside. I need to talk to you.” His master sounded slightly breathless, almost nervous… and James felt another lurch in his gut. But if he’d thought he was anxious before, he felt all the blood drain out of his face as he followed Steve into the sitting room, and saw that not only Frank, but David was waiting there for him as well. Holy Christ, if all three alphas needed to be here, then it was definitely a serious problem. He’d been doing so well, had thought that Steve had been pleased with him, had so looked forward to the trip to the markets, and now it was all-

“James!” He jerked his head up, suddenly aware that Steve had called his name several times. “Sit down.” Steve indicated the seat next to him, Frank and David sitting on the opposite sofa, and David was openly staring at him. James sat down, feeling a sweat break out all down his back. And then Steve took his hands in his own, chewing on his lip as he seemed to consider his words carefully, his gaze fixed on their intertwined fingers.

He lifted his eyes, opened his mouth to say something… but James gasped as he saw the bright golden color in his master’s eyes. He reached up to touch his face, remembering at the last second that it was inappropriate, and his hand stayed floating just an inch away from his skin. 

“You’re flaring,” he said in astonishment. “Why are you flaring?” There were only about two or three reasons an adult alpha would flare, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember what any of them were right at the moment.

“We’ve bonded,” Steve said softly, and it was a measure of his shock and disbelief that James actually looked around the room to see who Steve had bonded with. Was there some other omega here-?

“What?” he said. There was only one logical conclusion he could reach, but it made no sense. “You can’t bond with me.” He said it so matter-of-factly that Steve actually looked doubtful for a moment. The gold drained out of his eyes, his face turning slightly paler.

“Why not?” 

“I’m not a very good omega,” James recited, something he had explained to this family time and time again. 

But then, to his astonishment, his master laughed. “Just a few months ago, you delivered a healthy baby boy into my arms, and told me you were a damn good one.”

Reality caught up with James then, his brain finally putting everything together, the frantic bouts of sex he and Steve had shared in the weeks leading up to the birth, his urgent need to have Steve with him during the labour, the tender moments afterwards, being fed breakfast from his master’s own hand. The bonding process had been going on for months, slow and subtle, built over long conversations and passionate embraces. And to his utter embarrassment, he felt tears pricking at the back of his eyes, and blinked rapidly. 

“We’ve bonded?” he asked, needed to hear it again. 

Steve nodded. “Yes. Is that… Are you okay with that?”

James leaned forward and kissed his master, right in front of the other alphas, unable to find any other way to express his feelings. “Yes,” he said firmly. “God, yes.” And then Steve kissed him back, then pressed his forehead against James’s, his hand at the back of his neck, holding him close. 

“The Baron’s coming to make it official,” Steve told him, and James had to fight back a laugh. So it was his fault that the Baron was coming, after all.


	23. Chapter 23

Steve stood in the sitting room, listening to Baron Wrex explain to him just how the test of his bonding with James was to work. The man had arrived just minutes ago, and in typical style, had wasted no time in getting down to business. He’d brought two men with him, both of them great strapping boys. One was his adopted alpha son, a foreign man by the name of Grunt. Apparently it meant warrior in Russian, or Scandinavian, or some such language. The other man was named Kalros, the son of the Baron in the next district, who happened to be visiting the Urdnot estate at the time. 

And they weren’t just there for political reasons, Steve now understood. He glanced over at James, who had also listened to Wrex explain the process, and raised his eyebrows in a silent question.

James nodded once, and though he looked tense, Steve knew that he understood the need for what was about to happen. He wasn’t going to like it any more than Steve was, but it was necessary. Wrex could only officially recognise a bonding if he personally witnessed the alpha flare. Frank and David were also watching on, standing far back in the room, well out of the way.

“Shall we begin?” Wrex asked, his deep voice surprisingly gentle, and Steve was grateful for his apparent compassion in understanding how stressful this was on them both.

“Let’s begin,” he said firmly. Grunt and Kalros moved to flank the Baron, and James stepped forward, no weakling himself, but certainly not considered the greatest threat in the room.

Wrex stepped forward, closer to the omega, then closer still. James held his ground. Wrex reached up and ran a light hand over his hair, down his face… then further, down over his chest. Steve was aware of himself fidgeting, not at all happy with proceedings… but he also didn’t feel the powerful urge he’d felt in the markets to thump the living daylights out of anyone who happened to be touching his omega.

James glanced sideways at him, a slight question in his expression, as if asking why he hadn’t stepped in yet… but Steve knew he had to wait for the flare to come naturally. Otherwise there would be no official acknowledgement of their bonding, and none of the legal protection that would cover James, courtesy of the bonding tattoo.

Wrex ran his hand lower still, keeping half an eye on Steve, down to brush over James’s groin… and suddenly Steve knew why this wasn’t going to work. He knew full well that Wrex wasn’t going to do anything serious to his omega, and James himself seemed to know that too, looking uncomfortable with the attention, but not unduly stressed. So how the hell were they supposed to prove that they were bonded if Steve never felt threatened enough to flare?

Wrex gave him a doubtful look, glanced over at Frank, who was looking pained and anxious, and then turned back to James. The omega murmured something to the Baron, too low for Steve to hear, but Wrex looked surprised… and then smiled, a wry, craft expression, and Steve watched as James licked his own lips, a small, tentative flick of the tongue, then tilted his head up, lips parted just a fraction as Wrex leaned in to kiss him-

Steve felt a surge of rage and lunged for the bigger man, slamming Wrex against the wall so hard the pictures rattled. “You touch my omega again and I’ll rip your balls off with my bare hands,” he growled out through gritted teeth. How dare he! And how dare James, how dare he look at Wrex with that sultry invitation in his eyes and how dare he accept a kiss from another alpha! He belonged to Steve! “You keep your fucking hands to yourself!” He slammed Wrex into the wall again, aware of Grunt and Kalros on either side of him, ready to step in if things got out of hand. A little violence was expected of him, but if there was a chance he would truly injure the Baron, the bodyguards were there to take care of things. Wrex was simply letting him make his point at this stage, not resisting, not fighting back, because the point, after all, was to make him flare, not start a riot. He gave the Baron one last shove just for good measure, then turned to seek out his disobedient omega.

James had retreated to the far side of the room, just as he’d been instructed. And Steve stalked over to him, eyes shimmering gold, seeing the audacious mischief in his eyes, and grabbed the man, kissing the living daylights out of him. There! Let him remember that, the next time he wanted to kiss someone else! He felt James kissing him back, eagerly accepting the embrace, but it wasn’t enough. He pushed his tongue into his mouth, pressed him back until they hit furniture, and then pressed a knee against James’s groin. His omega whimpered, a low, lusty noise, and that was what Steve had been waiting for – willing capitulation to his mastery over the man, eager acknowledgement of his affection. He released James, a distant part of himself vaguely embarrassed by the display he’d just put on… but then, that was the whole point of the bonding, wasn’t it? 

“Well, that was fairly convincing,” Wrex said dryly from the far side of the room. “We’d better see about that tattoo, then.”

 

That evening, the estate held a sizable celebration. James was highly embarrassed to realise that not just the Baron and his men, but visitors from three neighbouring estates had been invited as well. He wasn’t even able to convince himself that the attention was just for Steve – he was showered with praise and congratulations just as much as his master was, and instead of sitting with the other omegas for the meal, he was given a place right next to Steve, only one seat away from the Baron, and nearer the head of the table than even David was sitting. For this one night alone, he seemed to outrank the newest alpha on the estate, and it was a heady feeling that made him want to giggle as he sat down. He repressed the urge, knowing it would be highly inappropriate.

Every single omega had asked repeatedly to see his tattoo, and he’d blushed as he’d displayed the black circle that had been added to his Cortez brand.

He’d been served a glass of wine – yet more evidence of the blurring lines between his old rank, and his new one – but he’d eyed the glass warily, remembering the last time he’d drunk any. Steve caught the glance and reached out to squeeze his hand under the table. “Drink it slowly, and stick to one glass,” he advised, and James found that the rich taste was actually quite nice, if taken in small doses.

The Baron made a speech, then Frank did as well. After dinner there was a rich dessert, made with treacle and served with custard, and even the omegas were each given a slice. 

A bonding was an odd occurrence, socially speaking, an event that completely transcended the barriers between genders, uniting the highest members of society with the lowest, and in recognition of that strange bridging of gaps, everyone was included in the celebrations. The omegas still prepared and served the meal, but were then allowed to sit at the end of the table and eat along with everyone else.

 

It was late by the time the celebrations wrapped up, and the guests had been given rooms in the houses on the estate, it being too dark for them to safely find their way home. A shortage of space for the unusually large gathering meant that some of the betas were put in the omegas’ quarters and the omegas were sent to sleep in the barn. It was comfortable enough, the straw providing soft bedding that kept them warm, along with the blankets they took with them, and no one complained – due in no small part to full bellies and tired bodies. Clean up would be taken care of in the morning, as would seeing their guests back to their respective homes.

Steve took James’s hand and tugged him up the stairs to his own bedroom. It was no surprise to James – he’d assumed that Steve would want to mate with him tonight, and he was more than eager for it himself. His cock was already hard as they climbed the stairs, his back passage damp, his heart racing a little quicker than usual as he contemplated what it would mean to mate with his bonded alpha.

Bonded.

The idea was still overwhelming, and with everything that had happened that day, it was hard to believe that just that morning he had been on his way to market, unaware that he was a bonded omega, oblivious to the idea that there was anything unusual about the day.

The tattoo stung a little against his shirt, but it was the best kind of pain, one that reminded him that he was treasured beyond reason, that he had the most secure future possible for an omega, and that his position in this estate could never be taken from him.

Once the bedroom door was shut, Steve turned to him, held him still and just looked at him, his eyes tracing over every line of his face, again and again.

“My bonded omega,” he said, a waver in his voice, and James thought he saw a hint of moisture in his eyes, the candlelight shining just a little too brightly… and then lines of gold threaded through the brown, solid evidence that the bonding was very real.

And instead of waiting for Steve to take charge, to set the pace of their mating, James put his hands on his master’s shoulders and pressed him back towards the bed. Urged him to sit down and then bent to remove Steve’s boots, as Steve had done for him numerous times. He stripped off his own shirt and boots, remembering the night so long ago when Steve had shown him what pleasure really was, had put aside his own enjoyment for the sake of James’s, had _made love_ to him, for it could only be called that, and he suddenly wanted to return the favour.

He pressed Steve backwards onto the bed, crawling up his body in a mirror image of what he’d done to James back then, and leaned down to kiss him. “You are a most unusual alpha,” he said softly, a wealth of admiration in his voice, and the smile that lit Steve’s face was priceless. “I want to make you see stars.”

And so he did, putting lips and hands and tongue to good use, licking and sucking that heavy alpha cock until Steve swore, then pulling back, letting him come down from the near-climax, then doing it all over again. He stroked coffee-colored skin, murmured words of encouragement as Steve stroked him back, kissed him until his jaw was aching and his cock throbbing. 

And then Steve reached down and wrapped his hand around James’s cock, and he came instantly, and was then suddenly embarrassed about it. He’d been trying to show Steve how much he meant to him, trying to ignore his own body’s demands, but Steve just smirked, kissed away his embarrassment and slid a warm finger up inside his ass, making James squirm and clench around him, his cock quickly returning to full hardness.

They lay face to face, James’s leg up around Steve’s waist as his alpha angled his hips to slide inside him. And it felt like coming home. 

The slow push and pull of their bodies seemed to last forever, James climaxing again in the midst of it all, Steve’s hands everywhere… until he finally decided he wanted more, and the pace increased, the thrust of his hips getting sharper and deeper, and then he climaxed, his knot swelling inside James, and then James followed him, his seed pulsing out into the hot space between them.

“You need to move into my room,” Steve said sleepily, some time later. His knot was down, but he hadn’t withdrawn from James’s body, perhaps wanting to draw out the intimacy for as long as possible.

“Move in?”

“Permanently. You’ll sleep with me in this bed from now on.” 

Such were the privileges of a bonded omega, James realised in surprise. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected to happen about their sleeping arrangements, hadn’t actually given the matter any thought. But he very much liked the idea that this was _their_ bed, his, as well as Steve’s.

“Can I ask a really inappropriate question?” he asked suddenly, knowing that now might not be the right time, but there would also never be a better one.

“What is it?”

“I was just wondering about… about you and Liara.” James wondered if he’d made a bad mistake, as the body against and around his tensed, but when Steve drew back, his expression was quizzical, not annoyed. 

“What about her?”

“When you mated with her… back when she had her heat, I was told… various things about her.” He neglected to mention who had done the telling, and hoped Steve wouldn’t ask.

“What were you told?”

“That when she first came to the estate, you mated with her a lot. That people thought she was going to become your personal omega. And maybe even a breeding omega.”

Steve snorted, a sound of amused disbelief. “I would ask who’d told you that, but I know the way the rumor mill works around here. Yes, I mated with her a lot. I was considering getting a personal omega, but I’d been mating mostly with Henry before that. And I suppose I… I didn’t know much about bonding back then, but for some reason, I started to worry that I was going to bond with Henry. I didn’t want to, but I’d heard that if an alpha mated with the same omega all the time, then it could happen. And Liara…” He looked rueful, lost in the memories, and James felt a wave of jealousy-

“I was never attracted to Liara. That’s why I mated with her. I knew there was no chance that I could accidentally bond with her. I prefer one partner to a lot of different ones, and finding an omega that wasn’t a temptation seemed a handy solution.”

“You weren’t attracted to her? Why not? She’s young. Beautiful. Innocent.”

“And she’s female,” Steve pointed out, very matter-of-factly. “I’ve always been far more interested in male omegas than females.”

James was stunned by the news. And greatly relieved. Not only because Steve wasn’t attracted to her, but also because it meant that he had never kicked her out of her spot in the estate – even inadvertently. “What about her being used as a breeding omega?”

“Um… no.” Steve looked suddenly uncomfortable. “No, she could never be used for breeding.”

“But I was told Frank paid a lot of money for her, from an estate up near Paris-“

“A polite fabrication to save her the indignity of the truth. I think it would be disrespectful to Liara to tell you the whole story, but suffice to say that Frank bought her as an act of generosity, and there was never any consideration of breeding from her. And it would be far better for Liara if you kept that information to yourself.”

James nodded obediently. He harbored no ill will against the girl, had no reason to try and make her life difficult. 

As they had been talking, Steve’s cock had been slowly returning to life, and James shifted in the comfortable silence that fell between them, feeling it slide deeper inside him, filling his body a little more snugly than a moment ago.

“Mmm… more?” he asked, pleased by the note of anticipation in his voice – he wanted his master to know how much he loved this, how much he enjoyed both providing and receiving this pleasure, and Steve murmured his agreement, hips already taking up a slow, easy rhythm. 

“More,” he agreed huskily, tugging his omega closer, leaning down to kiss him once again.


	24. Epilogue

Three years later, Steve sat perched on the edge of the bed in the birthing room, supporting his omega’s body as he knelt on the floor, panting and moaning. Fluid gushed from his body, the birth of his third child on the estate imminent. Chakwas knelt behind the man, a towel at the ready to catch the child, and she put a hand on James’s swollen belly, monitoring the labour closely.

A rippling wave passed through his abdomen, the signal of the body’s final efforts to expel the child, and she nodded to Steve. The alpha leaned down and bit James hard, and Chakwas felt that big, hard body go limp. It still galled her how many alphas refused to do this simple service for their omegas, and as she caught the child’s head and gently guided its body out of the birth canal, her gaze lingered on the thin black circle around the omega’s brand. 

He was a lucky omega. She didn’t know much of his past, but the trails of scars over his body told her that it hadn’t been an easy one, and though he had to be a most admirable sort of man – no bonding would have occurred otherwise – there was still a heavy dose of luck involved. Luck that he’d been bought by this estate. Luck that he’d been assigned as Steve’s personal omega. Luck that he’d ever been brought to France, his accent clearly labeling him as being of Spanish origins.

She showed Steve the child, once he’d released the bite, and he smiled and nodded. She quickly wrapped the boy and handed him off to his new mother, then returned to James’s side to see that the afterbirth was delivered properly.

 

Steve helped James lie down on his side, the birth finally over, and reached for the basin to clean the blood and mucus away. James muttered something in Spanish, and Steve had learned enough of the language to know that he’d asked the sex of the child.

“It’s a boy,” he said in French, and then again in Spanish. “Es un nino.” It was the third boy in a row that James had delivered, his third successful pregnancy. There had been no repeat of the child-heat in the last two pregnancies, and while Steve had missed the necessary intimacy of the condition, he was relieved that James had been more comfortable this time around. They’d still mated, but with the forced orgasms induced by the pressure of the child, and without the driving demands of a hormonal imbalance, James had only been able to manage it once a week at the most.

James muttered his approval in Spanish, the words slurred as he drifted off into sleep, and Steve sat by his side, a small, private smile on his lips as he diligently cleaned his omega, then covered him with a blanket. He set the basin outside the door to be disposed of, then lay down on the bed, not at all tired, but wanting to keep an eye on his lover.

The estate was going from strength to strength. David was excelling at his studies, Edie, the new tutor proving to be as good as her reputation said she would be. He’d grown a full size knot, and, knowing that he still longed to mate with the coveted Liara, Steve had attempted to find out from Helen how the young man was doing in the bedroom department. 

It had been like getting blood from a stone, until James had simply laughed at him, shooed him out of the room and asked Helen to tell it to him straight. Something about the natural camaraderie between omegas, he’d said, and Steve had worked hard to not take offence. And then James had told him what the problem was – David had an overdeveloped idea of how many times in a mating an omega liked to orgasm, and Helen’s best attempts hadn’t gotten him to tone it down at all. 

A short but intimate chat later, and David had a new understanding of the way an omega’s body worked, and then Steve had finally allowed him to mate with Liara. He’d seen the shy, sideways glances she’d been giving the young alpha, and decided to let nature take its course, see where it all ended up. She would never be a breeding omega, David having been given a stern warning in that regard – an unfortunate inherited trait meant that Liara was highly likely to die in childbirth, no matter how much support her alpha gave her – but if things went well between her and David, she might well end up a personal omega.

There was plenty of news in town, as well. Baron Wrex had bonded with his personal omega, a woman named Bakara, as robust as the man himself, and he’d brought her to visit the estate. She was a no-nonsense sort of woman, with a tendency to speak her mind, and she’d gone so far as to call Wrex ‘clumsy’ – an insult he’d responded to by picking her up and ‘accidentally’ dropping her in a deep pile of hay. She and James had gotten on like a house on fire, while Steve and Wrex had laughed sheepishly at each other’s tendencies to give their omegas whatever they asked for. They were both whipped, and they knew it, but watching their omegas laughing, chatting, James pointing out the fluttering point on his belly where his child had been kicking, much to Bakara’s astonishment, had been priceless.

And Wrex had hired a dozen new guards, with the specific purpose of quelling troublemakers in town. The response from the locals had been mostly positive, alphas no longer having to put up with injured omegas, and omegas no longer having to fear journeys into town.

From his pad on the floor, James stirred, muttered something, flailed an arm weakly, and Steve reached down to stroke his hair, then held his hand until he settled again. It was hard to believe that this gentle, trusting, passionate man was the same one who’d snarled at him from inside a filthy cell as he was mated by force, all those years ago. And harder still to believe that a man who had been abused so badly, by so many alphas, could ever learn to trust one enough to bond with him. Steve felt humbled by it, still in awe of a slave who had taught him so much about the world. 

And how many more omegas out there had just as much potential, just as much compassion and intelligence and willingness to overcome insurmountable odds? Change was needed in this world, he knew. And he prayed that it wouldn’t be too long in coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, finally finished. This fic has taken up so much space in my head for so long, it's really sad to have it end. And it's over 70 000 words! *dies* I still have to resolve a few issues back in Kaidan and Shepard's timeline, and I have another fic based on the Leviathan DLC starting to demand attention in my head...
> 
> Thank you so much to all the people who commented. I haven't replied to everyone, but rest assured, your comments and support are all deeply appreciated. I'm glad you enjoyed this fic, and I'll try not to make you wait too long for the next (and possibly final) fic in this series. Although I said The Mavigon Solution would be the last part, so you never know...


End file.
